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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/fromegypttojapanOOfiel 



This volume is complete in itself ^ though it is the 
Se 'ond Part of a Journey Round the World, of which 
the First Part was published earlier^ with the title 
** From the Lakes of Killarney to the Golden Horn.^' 
The volumes are uniform in style ajtd 7taturally go to- 
gether ^ though either is complete without the other. 



FROM EGYPT TO JAPAN. 



By HENEY M. field, D.D. 



NINETEENTH EDITION. 



NEW YORK: 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
1905. 



1 



UBBARY of JOMGHF.SS 
Two Gopieti ftwetveo 

JUL 2y 1905 
COPY a. 



Copyright by 
SCETBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO. 

1877. 

Copyright by 

HENRY M. FIELD, 

1905. 



<^ 



DAVID DUDLEY, STEPHEN J. , AND CYRUS W. FIELD, 

ALL THAT ARE LEFT OF A LARGE FAMILY, 

AND BROTHERS GROW DEARER AS THEY GROW FEWER, 

AND STAND CLOSER WHEN EACH FEARS TO BE LEFT STANDING ALONE; 

®!)Cj5 'Foiumjc is Mt'^iUnUTs, 

m TOKEN OF THE LOVE OF A LIFETIME, WHICH 
WILL GROW STRONGER TO THE END. 



COJSTTENTS. 

L Crossing the Mediterranean— Alexandria— Caiko— 

The Pyramids, j 

IL On the Nile, ^ 1^5 

in. The Temples of Egypt- Did Moses get his law from 

THE Egyptians? 28 

IV. The Egyptian doctrine of a future life, 37 

V. The Religion of the Prophet, ......... 45 

VL Modern Egypt and the Khedive, 63 

VII. Midnight in the Heart of the Great Pyramid, . . 80 

Vni. Leaving Egypt— The Desert, 96 

IX. On the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, 106 

X. Bombay— First Impressions of India, 115 

XL Travelling in India — Allahabad— The Mela, . . . 131 

XIL Agra. Visit of The Prince of Wali':s~Palace of the 

Great Mogul— The Taj, 148 

XIII. Delhi — A Mohammedan Festival— Scenes in the 

Mutiny, 163 

XIV. From Delhi to Lahore, 173 

XV. A Week in the Himalayas, 183 

XVI. The Tragedy of Cawnpore, 310 

XVII. The Story of Lucknow, ............ 333 

XVIU. The English Rule in India, 236 

XIX. Missions in India— Do Missionaries do any good? . 349 

XX. Benares, the Holy City of the Hindoos, .... 265 

XXI. Calcutta — Farewell to India, . . . , » . , . . 280 

XXII. Burmah— The Malayan Peninsula— Singapore, . . . 393 

XXIII. The Island of Java , . ; 326 

XXIV. Up the China Seas— Hong Kong and Canton, . . . 365 
XXV. Three Weeks in Japan, 397 



FROM EGYPT TO JAPAN. 



CHAPTER I. 

CROSSING THE MEDITERRANEAN — ^ALEXANDRIA — CAIRO— 
THE PYRAMIDS. 

On tlie Bosphorus there are birds which the Turks call 
** lost souls," as they are never at rest. They are always on 
the wing, like stormy petrels, flying swift and low, just 
skimming the waters, yet darting like arrows, as if seeking 
for something which they could not find on land or sea. 
This spirit of unrest sometimes enters into other wanderers 
than those of the air. One feels it strongly as he comes to 
the end of one continent, and '' casts ofi* " for another ; as 
he leaves the firm, familiar ground, and sails away to the 
distant and the unknown. 

So felt a couple of travellers who had left America to go 
around the world, and after six months in Europe, were now 
to push on to the farthest East. It was an autumn afternoon 
near the close of the year 1875, that they left Constantino- 
pit, and sailed down the Marmora, and through the Darda- 
nelles, between the Castles of Europe and Asia, whose very 
names suggested the continents that they were leaving behind, 
and set their faces towards Africa. 

They could not go to Palestine. An alarm of cholera in 
Damascus had caused a cordon sanitaire to be drawn along 
the Syrian coast ; and though they might get in, they could 
act so easily get awaj j or would be detained ten days in a 



3 CEOSSING THE MEDITERRANEAN. 

Lazaretto before thej could pass into Egypt ; and so tbey 
were obliged at the last moment to turn from the Holy Land, 
and sail direct for Alexandria ; touching, however, at Mity- 
lene and Scio ; and passing a day at Smyrna and at Syra. 
With these detentions the voyage took nearly a week, almost 
tis long as to cross the Atlantic. 

But it was not without its compensations. There was a 
motley company in the cabin, made up of all nations and 
all religions : English and Americans, French and Germans 
and Russians, Greeks and Turks, Christians and Mohamme- 
dans. There was a grand old Turk, who was going out to be 
a judge in Mecca, and was travelling with his harem, eight 
svomen, who were carefully screened from the observation of 
profane eyes. And there were other Mussulmans of rank, 
gentlemen in manners and education, who would be addressed 
as Eifendis or Beys, or perhaps as Pashas, who did not hesi- 
tate to spread their small Persian carpets in the cabin or on 
tlie deck at any hour, and kneel and prostrate themselves, 
;)nd say their prayers. 

Besides these, the whole forvfard part of the ship was 
packed with pilgrims (there were four hundred of them) 
going to Mecca : Turks in white turbans and baggy trous- 
ers ; and Circassians in long overcoats, made of undressed 
sheepskins, with tall, shaggy hats, like the bear-skin shakos 
of Scotch grenadiers. Som(?i of them had their belts stuck 
thick with knives and pistol?, aa if they expected to have to 
fight their way to the tomb of tlie Prophet. Altogether they 
were not an attractive set, and yet one could not view, with- 
3ut a certain respect, a body of men animated by a strong 
i^eligious feeling which impelled them to undertake this long 
pilgrimage ; it requires three months to go and return. Nor 
could one listen quite unmoved as at different hours of the 
day, at sunrise, or midday, or sunset, the muezzin climbed to 
the upper deck, and in a wailing voice called the hour of 
prayer, and the true believers, standing up, rank or ra£JC| 



LANDING IN AFEICA. 3 

turned their faces towards Mecca, and reverently bowed 
themselves and worshipped. 

On the aftei^noon of the sixth day we came 11 sight of a 
/ow-lying coast, with not a hill or elevation of any kind 
rising above the dreary waste, the sea of waters breaking on 
a sea of sand. The sun sinking in the west showed the 
lighthouse at Alexandria, but as the channel is narrow and 
intricate, ships are not allowed to enter after sunset ; and so 
we lay outside all night, but as soon as the morning broke, 
steamed up and entered the harbor. Here was the same 
scene as at Constantinople — a crowd of boats around the 
ship, and boatmen shouting and yelling, jumping over one 
another in their eagerness to be first, climbing on board, and 
rushing on every unfortunate traveller as if they would tear 
him to pieces. But they are not so terrible as they appear, 
and so it always comes to pass, that whether *' on boards or 
broken pieces of the ship," all come safe to land. 

In spite of this wild uproar, it was not without a strange 
feeling of interest that we first set foot in Africa. A few 
days before we had touched the soil of Asia, on the other 
side of the Bosphorus — the oldest of the continents, the cra- 
dle of the human race. And now we were in Africa — ^in 
Egypt, the land of the Pharaohs, out of which Moses led the 
Israelites ; the land of the Pyramids, the greatest monuments 
of ancient civilization. 

As soon as one comes on shore, he perceives that he is in 
a different country. The climate is different, the aspects of 
nature are different, the people are different, the very animals 
are different. Caravans of camels are moving slowly through 
the streets, and outside of the city, coming up to its very walls, 
fts if threatening to overwhelm it, is the " great and terrible '* 
desert, a vast and billowy plain, whose ever-drifting sands 
would speedily bury all the works of man, if they were not 
kept back from destruction by the waters of the Nile, which 
is at once the creator and preserver of Egypt. 



% ALEXANDRIA. 

Alexandria, although founded by Alexander tJie Great 
whose name it bears, and therefore more than two thousand 
years old — and although in its monumente, Cleopatra's 
Needle and Pompey^s Pillar, it carries back the mind to th« 
last of the Ptolemies, the proud daughter of kings, and to 
her Koman lovers and conquerors — has yet in many parts 
quite a modern aspect, and is almost a new city. It has felt, 
jaore than most places in the East, the influence of European 
civilization. Commerce is returning to its ancient seats 
along the Mediterranean, and the harbor of Alexandria is 
filled with a forest of ships, that reminds one of New York 
or Liverpool. i 

But as it becomes more European, it is less Oriental ; and 
though more prosperous, is less picturesque than other parts 
of Egypt; and so, after a couple of days, we left for Cairo, 
and now for the first time struck the Nile, which reminds an 
American traveller of the Missouri, or the lower Mississippi. 
It is the same broad stream of turbid, yellow waters, flowing 
between low banks. This is the Great River which takes its 
rise in the heart of Africa, beyond the equator, at a point 
so remote that, though the Valley of the Nile was four 
thousand years ago the seat of the greatest empire of anti- 
quity, yet to this day the source of the river is the problem 
of geographers. Formerly it was a three days' journey from 
Alexandria to Cairo, but the railroad shortens it to a ride of 
four hours, in which we crossed both branches of the Nile. 
Just at noon we came in sight of the Pyramids, and in half 
an hour were driving through the streets of the capital of 
Egypt. 

"We like Cairo, after two or three weeks, much better than 
Constantinople. It has another climate and atmosphere 
f^nd is altogether a gayer and brighter city. The new 
j^arrer occupied by foreigners is as handsomely built ai 
any European city. The streets are wide and well paved, 
like the new streets and boulevards of Paris. We are aA 



CAIRO. 

fche "Grand Newr Hotel," fronting on the EzbeklBh gardens, 
a large square, filled with trees, i^ith kiosks for music, 
and other entertainments. Our windows open en a broad 
balcony, from which w© can hear the band playing every 
afternoon, while around us is the city, with its domes and 
minarets and palm trees. 

The great charm of Egypt is the climate. It is truly the 
Land of fche Sun. We landed on the first day of December, 
but we cannot realize that this is winter. The papers tel 
us that it is very cold in New York, and that the Hudson 
river is frozen over ; but here every thing is in bloom, as in 
mid-summer, and I wear a straw hat to protect me from the 
heat of the sun. But it is not merely the warmth, but the 
exquisite purity of the atmosphere, that makes it so deli- 
cious. The great deserts on both sides drink up every drop 
of moisture, and every particle of miasm that is exhaled 
from the decaying vegetation of the Yalley of the Nile, and 
send back into these streets the very air of Paradise. 

Having thus the skies of Italy, and a much more balmy 
air, it is not strange that Egypt attracts travellers from 
France, and England, and America. It is becoming more 
and more a resort not only for invalids, but for that wealthy 
class who float about the world to find the place where they 
can pass existence with the most of languid ease. Many 
come here to escape the European winters, and to enjoy the 
delicious climate, and they are from so many countries, that 
Cairo has become a cosmopolitan city. As it is on the road 
to India, it is continually visited by English officers and 
civilians, going or returning. Of late years it has become a 
pesort also for Americans. A number of our army officers 
have taken service under the Khedive, who rendezvoua 
chiefly at this New Hotel, so that with the travellers of the 
same country, we can talk across the table of American 
affairs, as if we were at Newport or Saratoga. Owing to 
the influx of so many foreigners, this Hotel and '^ Shep 



6 AMEEICAITS m CAIRO 

beard's " seem like small colonies of Europeans. Hearing 
only English, or French., or German, one might believe him- 
self at one of the great hotels in Switzerland, or on the 
Rhine. A stranger who wishes to pass a winter in Cairo, 
aeed not die of ennui for want of the society of his country- 
men^ 

Besides these officers in the army, the only Americana 
here in official positions, are the Consul Greneral Beardsley, 
and Judge Batcheller, who was appointed by our Govern- 
ment to represent the United States in the Mixed Court 
lately established in Egypt. Both these gentlemen are very 
courteous to their countrymen, while giving full attention 
to their duties. As we have sometimes had abroad con- 
suls and ministers of whom we could not be proud, it ii 
something to be able to say, that those here now in official 
position are men of whom we need not be ashamed as re • 
presentatives of our country. 

Another household which should not be overlooked, since 
it gives an American a home feeling in Cairo, is that of the 
American Mission. This has been here some years, and so 
won the favor of the government, that the former Viceroy 
gave it a site for its schools, which proved so valuable that 
the present Khedive has recently bought it back, by giving 
a new site and £7000 into the bargain. The new location is 
one of the best in Cairo, near the Ezbekieh square, and here 
with the proceeds of the sale, and other funds contributed 
for the object, the Mission is erecting one of the finest build- 
ings for such purposes in the East, where their chapel and 
schools, in which there are now some five hundred children, 
will be under one roof. 

This Mission School some years ago was the scene of a 
romantic incident. An Indian prince, then living in Eng- 
land, was on his way to India, witli the body of his mother, 
who had died far from her country, but with the prejudicea 
of a Hind )o strong in death, wished her liody to be taker 



THE AMERICAN MISSION. 7 

JDack to the land of her birth. While passing thrcvugl: 
Cairo, he paid a visit to the American Mission, and was 
struck with the face of a young pupil in the girls' school, 
and after due inquiry proposed to the missionaries to take 
her as his wife. They gave their consent, and on his retura 
they were married, and he took her with him to England. 
This was the Maharajah Dhuleep Sing, a son of old Runjeet 
Sing, the Lion of Lahore, who raised up a race of warriors^ 
that after his death fought England, and whose country, the 
Punjaub, the English annexed to their Indian dominions; 
and here, as in other cases, removed a pretender out of the 
way by settling a large pension on the heir to the throne. 
Thus the Maharajah came into the possession of a large 
revenue from the British government, amounting, I am told, 
to some £30,000 a year. Having been from his childhood 
under English pupilage, he has been brought up as a Christian, 
and finds it to his taste to reside in England, where he is 
able to live in splendor, and is a gi'eat favorite at court. 
His choice of a wife proved a most happy one, as the modest 
young pupil of Cairo introduced into his English home, 
with the natural grace of her race, for she is partly of Arab 
descent, the culture and refinement learned in a Mission 
school. Nor does he forget what he owes to the care of those 
who watched over her in her childhood, but sends a thousand 
pounds every year to the school in grateful acknowledgment 
of the best possible gift it could make to him, that of a noble 
Christian wife. 

Besides this foreign society, there is also a resident society 
which, to those who can be introduced to it, is very attrac- 
tive. The government of the Khedive has brought into his 
service some men who would be distinguished in any Euro- 
pean court or capital. The most remarkable of these ia 
Nubar Pasha, long the Minister of Foreign Affairs. 

Judge Batcheller kindly took me to the house of the old 
statesman, who r63eived us cordially. On hearing that 1 



B NUBAE PASHA. 

was on my way around the world, lie exclaimed, " Ah, yon 
Americans ! You are true Bedouins ! " I asked him what 
was the best guide-book to Egypt ? He answered instantly, 
" The Bible." It was delightful to see his enthusiasm fox 
Egypt, although he is not an Egyptian. He is not an Arab, 
nor a Turk, nor even a Mussulman ; but an Armerian by 
birth and by religion. His uncle, Nubar Pasha, came over 
with Mehemet Ali, whose prime minister he was for forty 
years ; and his nephew, who inherits his name, inherits also 
the traditions of that great reign. Though born on the other 
side of the Mediterranean, he is in heart an Egyptian. He 
loves the country of his adoption, and all his thoughts and 
-•ifi political ambition are for its greatness and prosperity. 
lie has lived here so long that he sometimes speaks of him- 
self playfully as " one of the antiquities of Egypt." " Of 
the first dynasty?" we ask. "Yes, of the time of Menes." 
I do not believe he could exist anywhere else. He loves 
not only the climate, but even the scenery of Egypt, which 
is more charming to his eyes than the hills and vales of Scot- 
land or the mountains of Switzerland. "But you must 
admit," I said, " that it has a great monotony." " No," he 
replied, " in Lombardy there is monotony ; but Egypt is im- 
mensity, infinity, eternity. The features of the landscape 
may be the same, but the eye never wearies." Surely his 
eye never does, for it is touched with a poetic vision ; he 
Bees more than meets the common eye ; every passing cloud 
changes the lights and shadows ; and to him there is more oi 
beauty in the sunset flashing through the palm groves, as the 
leaves are gently stirred by the evening wind, than in all the 
luxuriance of tropical forests. Even if we did not quitf 
Bhare his enthusiasm, we could not but be charmed by the 
pictures which were floating before his mind's eye, and by 
the eloquence of his descriptior.. As he loves the country 
BO he lovos the people of Egypt. Poor and helpless as they 
we, they have won upon his aflfection ; he says " they are 



STREET SCENES IN CAIRO. 

hut children;" but if fchey have the weakness of children, 
fchey have also their simplicity and trustfulness; and T couln 
Bee that his great ambition was to break up that system oi 
forced labor which crushes them to the earth, and to secuic 
to them at least some degree of liberty and of justice. 

With all its newness and freshness this city retains its 
Oidental character. Indeed Grand Cairo is said to be the 
most Oriental of cities except Damascus. It has four hun- 
dred thousand inhabitants, and in its ancient portions has 
all the peculiar features of the East. Not only is the 
city different from Constantinople, but the people are 
different; they are another race, and speak another lan- 
guage. Turks and Arabs are as different as Englishmen 
and Frenchmen. 

"We are entertained every time that we go out of doors, 
with the animated and picturesque life of the streets. There 
are all races and all costumes, and all modes of locomotion. 
There are fine horses and carriages. I feel like Joseph riding 
in Pharaoh's chariot, when we take a carriage to ride out to 
Shoobra, one of the palaces of the Khedive, with syces 
dressed in white running before to herald our royal progress, 
and shout to the people to get out of our way. But one 
who prefers a more Oriental mode of riding, can mount a 
camel, or stoop to a donkey, for the latter are the smallest 
creatures that ever walked under the legs of a man, and if 
the rider be very tall, he will need to hold up his feet to 
keep them from dangling on the ground. Yet they are hardy 
little creatures, and have a peculiar amble which they keep 
up all day. They are very useful for riding, especially in 
«ome parts of the city where the streets are too narrow to 
allow a carriage to pass. 

The donkey-men are very sharp, like their tribe in all parts 
of the world. The Arabs have a great deal of natural wit, 
which might almost entitle them to be called the Irish of the 
East. They have ]ncked up a few words of English, and i< 



10 THE PTEAMTOS. 

is amusing to hear them saj, with a most peculiar accent^ 
"All right," "Yery good," "Go ahead." They seem to 
know everybody, and soon find out who are their best custom- 
ers. 1 cannot go down the steps without a dozen rushing 
toward me, calling out " Doctor, want a donkey ? " One of 
them took me on my weak side the first day by saying that 
the name of his animal was " Yankee Doodle," and so I have 
patronized that donkey ever since, and a tough little beast 
he is, scudding away with me on his back at a great rate. 
His owner, a fine looking Arab, dressed in a loose blue gown 
and snowy turban, runs barefooted behind him, to prick 
him up, if he lags in his speed, or if perchance he goes too 
fast, to seize him by the tail, and check his impetuosity. 
We present a ludicrous spectacle when thus mounted, setting 
out for the bazaars, where our experience of Constantinople 
is repeated. 

Of course the greatest sight around Cairo is the Pyra- 
mids. It is an event in one's life to see these grandest 
monuments of antiquity. The excursion is now very 
easy. They are eight miles from Cairo, and it was formerly 
a hard day's journey to go there and back, as one could only 
ride on a donkey or a camel, and had to cross the river in 
boats ; and the country was often inundated, so that one had 
to go miles around. But the Khedive, who does everything 
here, has changed all that. He has built an iron bridge over 
the Nile, and a broad road, raised above the height of the 
annual inundations, so as never to be overflowed, and lined 
vv^ith trees, the rapid-growing acacia, so that one may drive 
through a shaded avenue the whole "^v^ay. A shower which 
had fallen the night before we went (a very rare thing in 
Egypt at this season) had laid the dust and cooled the air, 
so that the day was perfect, and we drove in a carriage in 
an hour and a half from our hotel to the foot of the Pyra- 
mids!. The two largest of these are in sight as soon as on« 
crosses the Nile, but though six miles distant they seem quit* 



THE PYRAMIDS. 11 

near. Yet at first, and even when close to them, they hardl* 
impress the beholder with their real greatness. This is ow- 
ing to their pyramidal form, which, rising before the eye like 
the slope of a hill, does not strike the senses or the imagina- 
tion as much as smaller masses which rise perpendicularly. 
One can hardly realize that the Pyramid of Cheops is the 
largest structure in the world — the largest probably ever 
reared by human hands. But as it slopes to the top, it doea 
not present its full jDroportions to ihe eye, nor impress one 
so much as some of the Greek temples with their perpen- 
dicular columns, or the Gothic churches with their lofty 
arches, and still loftier towers, soaring to heaven. Yet the 
Great Pyramid is higher than them all, higher even than the 
spire of the Cathedral at Strasburg; while in the surface of 
ground covered, the most spacious of them, even St. Peter's 
at Kome, seems small in comparison. It covers eleven acres, 
a space nearly as large as the Washington Parade Ground in 
New York ; and is said by Herodotus to have taken a hundred 
thousand men twenty years to build it. Pliny agrees in the 
length of time, but says the number of workmen employed 
was over three hundred thousand ! 

But mere figures do not give the best impression of 
height ; the only way to judge of the Great Pyramid is to 
see it and to ascend it. One can go to the top by steps, but 
as these steps are blocks of stone, many of which are four 
feet high, it is not quite like walking up stairs. One could 
hardly get up at all but with the help of the Arabs, who 
swarm on the ground, and make a living by selling their ser- 
yioes. Four of them set upon me, seizing me by the hands, 
srtiid dragging me forward, and with pulling and pushing and 
* boosting," urged on by my own impatience — for I would not 
\?.t them rest a moment — in ten minutes we were at the top, 
vrhich they thought a great achievement, and rubbed down 
my legs, as a groom rubs down a horse after a race and 
dapped me on the back, and shouted ''All right," ^' Yery 



12 THE PYKAMTOS. 

good." I felt a little pride in being the first of our party o» 
the top, and the last to leave i:. 

These Arab guides are at once very troublesome and Very 
necessary. One cannot get along without them, and yet 
they are so importunate in their demands for backsheesh that 
they become a nuisance. They are nominally under the 
'orders of a Sheik, who charges two English shillings foi 
every traveller who is assisted to the top, but that does not 
relieve one from constant appeals going up and down. I 
found it the easiest way to get rid of them to give somewhat 
freely, and thus paid three or four times the prescribed charge 
before I got to the bottom. No doubt I gave far too much, 
for they immediately quoted me to the rest of the party, and 
held me up as a shining example. I am afraid I demoralized 
the whole tribe, for some friends who went the next day were 
told of an American who had been there the day before, who 
had given " beautiful backsheesh." The cunning fellows, 
finding I was an easy subject, followed me from one place to 
another, and gave me no peace even when wandering among 
the tombs, or when taking our lunch in the Temple of the 
Sphinx, but at every step clamored for more; and when I 
had given them a dozen times, an impudent rascal came up 
even to the carriage, as we were ready to drive away, and 
said that two or three shillings more would " make all se- 
rene ! " — a phrase which he had caught from some strolling 
American, and which he turns to good account. 

But one would gladly give any sum to get rid of petty an- 
noyances, and to be able to look around him undisturbed. 
Here we are at last on the very summit of the Great Pyraniid, 
•nd begin to realize its immensity. Below us men look like 
mice creeping about, and the tops of trees in the long ave- 
nue show no larger than hot-house plants. The eye ranges 
over the valley of the Nile for many miles — a carpet of the 
richest green, amid which groups of palms rise like islands 
In a sea. To the east beyond the Nile is Cairo, its donaef 



THE PYRAMIDS. IS 

fcnd minarets standing out against tlio background of hfl 
Mokattam hills, while to the west stretches far aw Ay hr 
Libyan desert. 

Overlooking this bioad landscape, one can trace distincth 
the line of the overflow of the Nile. Wherever the wateis\ 
come, there is greenness and fertility ; at the point when- 
they cease, there is barrenness and desolation. It is a per 
petual struggle between the waters and the sands, like that 
which is always going on in human history between bar bar 
ism and civilization. 

In the Pyramids the two things which impress us most are 
their vast size and their age. As we stand on the top, and 
look down the long flight of steps which leads to the valley 
below, we find that we are on the crest of a mountain oi 
stone. Some idea of the enormous mass imbedded in the 
Great Pyramid may be gathered from the fact, ascertained 
by a careful computation (estimating its weight at seven mil- 
lions of tons, and considering it a solid mass, its chambers 
and passages being as far as discovered but -^-q^-q^^ of ^^i® 
whole), that these blocks of stone, placed end to end, would 
make a wall a foot and a half broad, and ten feet high around 
England, a distance of 883 miles — a wall that would shut in 
the island up to the Scottish border. 

And the Pyramids are not only the greatest, but the 
oldest monuments of the human race, the most venerable 
structures ever reared by the hand of man. They are far 
older than any of the monuments of Roman or Grecian anti- 
quity. They were a marvel and a mystery then as much aa 
they are to-day. How much older cannot be said with cer 
fcainty. Authorities are not fully agreed, but the general be- 
lief among the later chronologists is that the Great Pyramid 
was built about two thousand one hundred and seventy 
years before the time of Christ, and the next in size a cen- 
tury later. Thus both have been standing about four thou- 
Band years Napoleon was riglit therefore when he said to 



14 THE PYRAMIDS. 

his soldiers before the battle fought with the Mameluke« 
ander the shadow of the Pyramids, " From those heights 
forty centuries behold you." This disposes of the iiea which 
some have entertained, that they were built by the children 
^f Israel when they were in Egypt ; for according to this 
%hej were erected two hundred years before even the time 
of Abraham. Jacob saw them when he came down into 
Egypt to buy corn ; and Joseph showed them to his brethren. 
The subject Hebrews looked up to them in the days of their 
bondage. Moses saw them when he was brought up in the 
court of Pharaoh, and they disappeared from the view of the 
Israelites only when they fled to the Red Sea. They had 
been standing a thousand years when Homer sang of the 
siege of Troy ; and here came Herodotus the father of history, 
four hundred years before Christ, and gazed with wonder, 
and wrote about them as the most venerable monuments of 
antiquity, with the same curious interest as Rawlinson does 
to-day. So they have been standing century after century, 
while the generations of men have been flowing past, like the 
waters of the Nile. 

We visited the Great Pyramid again on our return from 
Upper Egypt, and explored the interior, but reserve the 
deacriptiou to another chapter. 



CHAPTER II. 



ON THE NILE. 



At last we are on the Nile, floating as in a dream, in thi 
finest climate in the world, amid the monuments and memo- 
ries of thousands of years. Anything more delightful than 
this climate for winter cannot be imagined. The weather is 
always the same. The sky is always blue, and we are bathed 
in a soft, delicious atmosphere. In short, we seem to have 
come, like the Lotus-eaters, to " a land where it is always 
afternoon." In such an air and such a mood, we left Cairo 
to make the voyage to which we had been looking forward 
as an event in our lives. 

To travellers who desire to visit Egypt, and to see its 
principal monuments, without taking more time than they 
have at command, it is a great advantage that there is now a 
line of steamers on the Nile. The boats belong to the Khe- 
dive, but are managed by Cook & Son, of London, the well- 
known conductors of excursions in Europe and the East. 
They leave Cairo every fortnight, and make the trip to the 
First Cataract and back in twenty days, thus comprising the 
chief objects of interest within a limited time. Formerly 
there was no way to go up the Nile except by chartering a 
boat, with a captain and crew for the voyage. This mode of 
travel had many charms. The kind of boat — called a dcuiOr 
heeah — was well fitted for the purpose, with a cabin large 
enough for a single family, or a very small party, and an up- 
per deck covered with awnings ; and as it spread its three- 
cornered lateen sail to the wind, it presented a pretty and 
picturesque object, and the traveller floated along at his own 



16 ON THE NILE. 

sweet will. This had only the drawback of taking a whole 
winter. But to leisurely tourists, who like to do everything 
thoroughly, and so take but one country in a year; oi 
learned Egyptologists, who wish, in the intervals of seeing 
monuments, to make a special study of the history of Egypt ; 
or invalids, who desire only to escape the damps and fogs of 
Britain, or the bitter cold of the Northern States of America — ■ 
nothing can be imagined more delightful. There is a class 
of overworked men for whom no medicine could be pro- 
scribed more effectual than a winter idled away in this sooth 
ing, blissful rest. Nowhere in the world can one obtain 
more of the dolce far niente, than thus floating slowly and 
dreamily on the Nile. But for those of us who are wander- 
ing over all the earth, crossing all the lands and seas in the 
round world, this slow voyaging will not answer. 

Nor is it necessary. One can see Egypt — not of course 
minutely, but sufficiently to get a general impression of the 
country — in a much less time. It must be remembered that 
this is not like other countries which lie four-square, pre- 
senting an almost equal length and breadth, but in shape is 
a mere line upon the map, being a hundred times as long as 
it is broad. To be exact, Egypt from the apex of the Delta 
— that is from Cairo — to the First Cataract, nearly six hun- 
dred miles, is all enclosed in a valley, which, on an average, 
is only six miles wide, the whole of which may be seen from 
the deck of a steamer, while excursions are made from day 
to day to the temples and ruins. It is a mistake to suppose 
that one sees more of these ruins on a boat because he is so 
much longer about it, when the extra time consumed is noi 
spent at Denderah or Thebes, but floating lazily along with 
a light wind, or if the wind be adverse, tied up to a bank to 
await a change. In a steamer the whole excursion is well 
divided, ample time being allowed to visit every point of in- 
terest, as at Thebes, where the boat stops three days. Ai 
ioon as one point is done, it moves on to another. In thif 



PYBAMIDS OF SAKKARA- 17 

way no time is lost, and one can see as much in throe weeki 
as in a dahabeeah in three months. 

Our boat carried twenty seven passengers, of whom more 
than half were Americans, forming a most agreeable company 
All on deck, we watched with interest the receding shores, 
as we sailed past the island of Rhoda, where, according to 
tradition, the infant Moses was found in the bulrushes; and 
where the Nilometer, a pillar planted in the water ages ago, 
still marks the annual risings and fallings of the great river 
of Egypt. The Pyramids stood out clear against the western 
sky. That evening we enjoyed the first of a series of glori- 
ous sunsets on the Nile. Our first sail was very short — only 
to Sakkara, a few miles above Cairo, where we lay to for the 
night, the boat being tied up to the bank, in the style of a 
steamer on the Mississippi. 

Early the next morning our whole company hastened 
ashore, where a large array of donkeys was waiting to re- 
ceive us. These had been sent up from Cairo the night be- 
fore. My faithful attendant was there with " Yankee Doo- 
dle," and claimed me as his special charge. We were soon 
mounted and pricking over what we should call " bottom 
lands " in the valleys of our Western rivers, the wide plain 
being relieved only by the palm groves, and rode through an 
Arab village, where we were pursued by a rabble rout of 
ragged children. The dogs barked, the donkeys brayed, and 
the children ran. Followed by such a retinue, we approached 
the Pyramids of Sakkara, which stand on the same plateau 
as those of Ghizeh, and are supposed to be even older in 
date. Though none of them are equal to the Great Pyramid, 
thoy belong to the same order of Cyclopean architecture, and 
are the mighty monuments of an age when there were giants 
in the earth. 

There is a greater wonder still in the Tombs of the Sa- 
cred Bulls, which were long buried beneath the sands of the 
desert, but have been brought to ligbt by a modern explorer, 



18 MEMPHIS. 

but whiih I will n3t describe here, as I shall speak of then 
again in illustration of the religious ideas of the Egyptians. 

Near the Pyi-amids of Sakkara is the site of Memphis, the 
capital of ancient Egypt, of whose magnificence we have the 
XKiost authentic historic accounts, but of which hardly a trace 
remains. We galloped our donkeys a long distance that we 
might pass over the spot where it stood, but found only great 
mounds of earth, with here and there a few scattered blocks 
of granite, turned up from the soil, to tell of the massive 
structures that are buried beneath. The chief relic of its 
former glory is a statue of Rameses the Great, one of the 
most famous of the long line of the Pharaohs — a statue which 
was grand enough to be worthy of a god — being some fifty 
feet high, but which now lies stretched upon the earth, with its 
face downward, all its fine proportions completely buried in 
a little pond — or rather puddle — of dirty water ! At certain 
seasons of the year, when the Nile subsides, the features are 
exposed, and one may look upon a countenance " whose bend 
once did awe the world ; " but at present, seeing only the 
badk, and that broken, it has no appearance or shape of any- 
thing, and might be a king, or queen, or crocodile. What a 
bitter satire is it on all human pride, that this mighty king 
and conqueror, the Napoleon of his day — who made nations 
tremble — now lies prone on the earth, his imperial front 
buried in the slime and ooze of the Nile ! That solitary stone 
is all that is left of a city of temples and palaces, which are 
here entombed, and where now groves of palms wave their 
tasselled plumes, like weeping willows over the sepulchre of 
departed greatness. 

Our next excursion was to the remains of a very remore 
antiquity on the other side of the Nile — the Rock-Tombs of 
Beni -Hassan — immense caverns cut in the side of a mountain, 
in which were buried the great ones of Egyjit four thousand 
years ago. Many of them ai'e inscribed with hieroglyphics, 
and decorated with frescoes and bas-reliefs, in which wf 



THE JSIAKKOW VALLEY. 11) 

recogni<5e not only the appearance of the ancient Egyptians^ 
but even of the animals which were familiar in that day, 
such as the lion, the jackal, and the gazelle, and more fre- 
quently the beasts of burden — bulls and donkeys ; but in none 
do we discover the horse, nor, what is perhaps even more 
remarkable in a country surrounded by deserts — the camel. 

In the King's tomb, or sepulchral chamber, a room some 
forty feet square, hollowed out of the solid rock, the vaulted 
roof is supported by Doric pillars, which shows that the 
Greeks obtained many of their ideas of architecture in 
Egypt, as well as of philosophy and religion. 

As we continue our course up the river, we observe more 
closely the features of the valley of the Nile. It is very 
narrow and is abruptly bounded by barren and ragged moun- 
tains. Between these barriers the river winds like a serpent 
from side to side, now to the east, and now to the west, 
but inclining more to the range of Eastern or Arabian hills, 
leaving the greater breadth of fertility on the western bank. 
Here is the larger number of villages; here is the rail- 
road which the Khedive has built along the valley, beside 
which runs the long line of telegraph poles, that sign of 
civilization, keeping pace with the iron track, and passing 
beyond it,carrying the electric cord to the upper Nile, to Nubia 
and Soudan. The Khedive, with that enterprise which marks 
his administration, has endeavored to turn the marvellous 
fertility of this valley to the most profitable uses. He has 
encouraged the culture of cotton, which became very exten- 
sive during our civil war, and is still perhaps the chief in- 
dustry of the country. Next to this is the growth of the 
sugar-cane : he has expended millions in the erection of 
great manufactories of sugar, whose large white wails and 
tall chimneys are the most conspicuous objects at many 
points along the Nile 

Now, as thousands of years ago, the great business of the 
people is irrigation. The river does everything. It fertilizes 



20 ABAB VELLAGES. 

the land; it yields the crops. Tlie only thicg is to brin^ 
the water to the land at the seasons when the river does not 
overflow. This is done by a very simple and rude apparatus^ 
somewhat like an old-fashioned well-sweep, by which a bucket 
is lowered into the river, and as it is swung up the water ia 
turned into a trench which conducts it over the land. This 
is tl[ie'shadoofj the same which was used in the time of Moses. 
There is another method by which a wheel is turned by an 
ox, lifting uj) a series of buckets attached to a chain, but 
this is too elaborate and expensive for the greater part of the 
poor people who are the tillers of the soil. 

We pass a great number of villages, but, larger and small- 
er, all present the same general features. At a distance they 
have rather a pretty effect, as they are generally embowered Id 
palm trees, out of which sometimes peers the white minaret 
of a mosque. But a nearer approach destroys all the pic- 
turesqueness. The houses are built of unburnt brick, dried 
in the sun. They are mere huts of mud — as wretched habi- 
tations as an Irish hovel or an Indian wigwam. The floor is 
the earth, where all sexes and ages sit on the ground, while 
in an enclosure scarcely separate from the family, sheep and 
goats, and dogs and asses and camels, lie down together. 

The only pretty feature of an Arab village is the doves. 
Where these Africans got their fondness for birds, I know 
not, but their mud houses are surmounted — and one mighi 
almost say castellated — with dove-cotes, which of couise are 
literally ''pigeon-holed," and stuck round with branches, to 
seem like trees, and these rude aviaries are alive with wings 
all day long. It was a pretty and indeed a touching sight to 
•ee these beautiful creatures, cooing and fluttering above, 
presenting such a contrast, in their airy flights and bright 
plumage, to the dark and sad liuman creatures below. 

But if the houses of the people are so mean and poor, theij 
clothing is still WDrse, consisting generally of but one gar- 
ment, a kind of sack of coarse stuft'. The men working at thi 



POVERTY OF THE PEOPLE. 21 

thudooj on Ihe river brink have only a strip of cloth around 
their loins. The women have a little more dress than the 
men, though generally barefoot and bareheaded — while car- 
rying heavy jars of water on their heads. The children have 
the merest shred of a garment, a clout of rags, in such tatters 
that you wonder how it can hold together, while many arc 
absolutely naked. 

This utter destitution would entail immense suffering, and 
perhaps cause the whole race to die out, but for the climate, 
which is so mild that it takes away in a great degree the 
need of shelter and raiment, which in other countries are 
necessary to human existence. 

This extreme poverty is aggravated by one disease, which 
is almost universal. The bright sun, glaring on the white 
sands, produces an inflammation of the eyes, which being 
neglected, often ends in blindness. I have seen more men in 
Egypt with one eye, or with none, than in all Europe. 

It might be supposed that a people, thus reduced by pov- 
erty and smitten by disease, would be crushed out of 
all semblance of humanity. And yet this Arab race is 
one which has a strong tenacity of life. Most travellers 
judge them harshly, because they are disgusted by the un- 
ceasing cry for backsheesh, which is the first word that a stran- 
ger hears as he lands in Egypt, and the last as he leaves i-^ 
But even this (although it is certainly a nuisance and a pest) 
might be regarded with more merciful judgment, if it wer« 
considered that it is only the outward sign of an internal dis- 
ease ; that general beggary means general poverty and gen- 
eral misery. 

Leaving this noisy crowd, which gathers about us m every 
village that we enter, it is easy to find different specimens of 
Arab character, whicl; engage our interest and compel our 
respect. One cannot look at these men without admiring 
their physique. They remind me much of our American In- 
Jiang Like them, they are indolent, unless goaded to «orir 



22 VENERABLE ARABS. 

by necessity, and find nothing so pleasant as to sit idly in the 
sun. But when they stand up they have an attitude as erect 
as any Indian chief, and a natural dignity, which is the badge 
of their race. Many a man who has but a single garment tc 
cover him, will wrap it about him as proudly as any Spanisl 
cavalier would toss his cloak over his shoulders, and stalk 
away with a bold, free stride, as if, in spite of centuries of 
humiliation, he were still the untamed lord of the desert. 
Their old men are most venerable in appearance. With their 
long beards, white turbans, and flowing garments, they might 
stand for the picture of Old Testament patriarchs. The wo- 
men too ( who do not cover their faces as much as those in 
lower Egypt), though coarsely and meanly dressed, yet as they 
walk with their water-jars on their heads, stand more erect 
than the fashionable ladies of our cities, I see them every 
day coming to fill their " pitchers " precisely as Rebecca and 
Rachel came three thousand years ago, and if I should ap- 
proach one, saying, Give me to drink, (which I might well do, 
for the water of the Nile — though containing so much sedi- 
ment, that it needs to be filtered — is as soft and sweet as 
that of our own Croton), she would let down her jar from 
ier head just as Rebecca let down her jar for the servant 
of Abraham, when he came to ask her in marriage for his 
master's son Isaac. 

The children too, though often naked, and if clothed at 
all, always in rags, yet have fine oiive complexions, and 
dazzling teeth, and those bright eyes which are the sign of 
a degree of native intelligence. 

Nor can I refuse to say a word for the poor donkey- boy. 
Many years ago a Scotchman in the Cape Colony, South 
Africa, who was accustomed to make long journeys in the 
buah, wrote a little poem, depicting the joys of tha^ solitary 
life, which began, 

" Afar in the desert I love to ride, 
With the silent bush-boy by my side." 



A88IOUT. ^4 

The donkey-boy in never silent, he is always sdnging or 
calling to his donkey, urging him forward with stick and 
voice ; yet who could wish a more patient or faithful attend- 
ant, who, though OD foot, trots by your side from morning 
to night, the slave of your caprice, taking meekly all your 
rebukes, perhaps undeserved, and content at last with a 
pittance for his service ? 

So have I had a little girl as a water-carrier, running 
close to my saddle all day long, keeping up with the don- 
key's pace, and carrying a small jar of water on her head, 
to wash my hands and face, or assuage my thirst, thankful 
at last for a few piastres as her reward. 

We reached Assiout, the capital of Upper Egypt, early 
Sunday morning, and laid up for the day. While our boat's 
company were preparing to go on shore to see the town, I 
mounted a donkey and started off to find the American Mis- 
sion, which is at work among the Copts, who claim to be 
the descendants of the ancient Egyptians. I arrived at the 
chapel in time to hear a sermon and an address to the Sun- 
day-school. As the services were in Arabic, I could not 
understand what was said, but 1 could perceive at once the 
earnestness of the speakers, and the close attention of the 
hearers. After the sermon there was a baptism. The con- 
gregation was a very respectable one both in numbers and 
appearance. There were perhaps two hundred present, all 
decently, although some were very poorly clad, and presented 
a striking contrast to the ragged and dirty people around 
them. In the quiet and orderly worship, and the songs that 
were sung, which were Arabic words to American tunes, 
there was much to make one think of home. There was 
nothing to distinguish the congregation except the Oriental 
turbans and dress, and the fact that the women sat apart 
from the men, separated by a screen, which shows that the 
seclusion of women is not confined to the Mohammedans, 
[t is an Oriental custom, and is observed by the Copts as 



24 MISSION AMONG THE tOPTS. 

well as tlio Moslems. I am told that even among Cbrietia* 
families here, it is not considered quite ** the thing " foi 
women to go abroad and show impertinent curiosity, and 
that ladies of good position, who are as intelligent as most 
Orientals, have never seen the Nile, but two miles distant ! 
Such is the power of fashion even in Africa. In the church 
are several men of wealth, who give freely of their means, 
as well as use their influence, for its support. The Copts 
are nominal Christians, although, lite most of the Christian 
sects of the East, they are very ignorant and very super- 
stitious. But they have not the fanatical hatred to Chris- 
tianity of the Mussulmans. They acknowledge the authority 
of the Bible, and are thus more open to argument and persua- 
sion. Besides this congregation, the mission has some dozen 
schools in the surrounding country. In the town itself, 
besides the schools' for the poorest children, it has a board 
ing-school for those of a better class, an academy which is 
the beginning of a college, and half a dozen young men are 
preparing for the ministry. The field is a very hopeful one, 
and I was assured that the success of the mission was limit- 
ed only by the means at its disposal. 

After visiting the schools. Rev. Mr. Strang accompanied 
me through the town. It has over twenty-five thousand in- 
habitants, and is the point of departure for the caravans 
which cross the Great Desert to Darfour and the far in- 
terior of Africa, returning laden with ivory and ostrich 
feathers, as in the days of King Solomon. We sa\« in an 
open square, or market-place, some hundred camels, that, aa 
they lay wearily on the earth, looked as if they might have 
made the long journey over the trackless sands. Laborers 
were at work, with no respect for the day, for Friday is the 
Mohammedan Sabbath ; and my friend pointed out, where a 
number of workmen were building a house, the '* task- 
master" sitting on the top of the wall to overlook them, as 
In the days of the Bible. As we returned by an old porta/ 



SCENBET AND CLIMATE. 26 

in the city walls, we found a number of long-bearded and 
venerable men, who were " sitting in the gate " as " elders " 
to administer justice. The city gate is the place of honoi 
and of justice now, as it was thousands of years ago. 

In the mountain behind the town are a great number ol 
fcombs, like those of Beni-Hassan, vast chambers hewn oul 
of the rock ages ago for burial places. We walked along 
by these silent memorials of the mighty dead, to the sum- 
mit, from which is one of the most beautiful views of the 
valley of the Nile. Below the plain is spread out for many 
miles, well watered like the garden of the Lord, the em(5rald 
green coming up to the very foot of the barren hills^ But 
tnere it ceases instantly, giving place to the desert. 

These contrasts suggest some comparisons bet^/'een the 
scenery and the climate of Egypt, and our owiy country. 
Whoever breathes this balmy air, and looks up to this cloud- 
less sky, must feel that the Lord of all the earth has been 
bountiful to Egypt^ As we read of the winter {itorms now 
raging over half of Europe, we bless the more kindly skies 
that are over us now. But after a few weeks of this dreamy, 
languid life, one begins *-o feel the want of something else to 
stir his bload. He finds that nature in Egypt, like the 
works of man, like the temples and the pyramids, is a sublime 
monotony The landscapes are all the same. There are 
four or fi>«9 grand features, the river, the valley, the hills 
that enclose it, and b-^yond the boundless desert, and over 
all the burning sun and sky. These are the elements that 
enter into every landscape. There is no change, no variety. 
Look where you will, there is no vision in the distance of 
lofty peaks dark with pines, or white with snow, no torrents 
leaping down the mountain side (the silence of Egypt is one 
of the things that most oppress me), no brooks that run 
among the hills, no winding paths along their banks that 
invite the stranger to lose himself in their shade. I see in* 
deed hills on either horizon, but they are barren and deso 



26 A. CLOUDLESS SKY. 

late. On all this double range, for six hundred mileSj tliert 
is not a single green thing — not a tree, not a shrub, not a 
blade of grass, not even a rock covered with moss, only a 
waste of sand and stone. If you climbed those hills yonder 
across the valley you would look off upon a boundless plair 
of sand that stretches to the Red Sea ; while behind where 
we stand is the Libyan Desert, which is only an arm of the 
Great Sahara, that crosses almost the whole of the continent 
In all this waste the valley of the Nile is the one narrow 
strip of fertiKty. And even this is parched and burnt up to 
the very water's edge. Hence the monotony of vegeta- 
tion. There is not a forest in all Egypt, only the palm 
groves, which are planted like garden flowers, but no tangled 
wild wood, no lofty elms, no broad-spreading oaks that cast 
their grateful shadow on the burning plains. All that va- 
riety of nature, with which in other lands she beguiles the 
weary heart of man, is wanting here. It is indeed the land 
of the sun, and in that is at once its attraction and its terror, 
KS the fiery orb beats down upon it, withering man and beast, 
>j7id turning the earth into a desert. 

Seeing this monotony of nature, and feeling this monot- 
my of life, one begins to pine after awhile, for a return to 
he scenes more varied, though more wild and rugged, of his 
own more northern clime. We hear much of the beauty of 
a " cloudless sky." It is indeed a relief for a few weeks to 
those who escape from wintry storms, from bitter winds and 
blinding snow. But who would have sunshine j or ever? 
The light and warmth are better when softened and subdued 
by clouds that intercept the overpowering rays. But here 
the clouds are few, and they do not " return after the rain,** 
for there is no rain. In Lower Egypt there is what may be 
called a rainy season. In the Delta, as the clouds roll up 
jfrom the Mediterranean, there is sometimes a sound of abun- 
tiance of rain. But in Upper Egypt it may be said that it 
nevor rains. In Assioui it has rained bnt three times is 



Off, FOE A THUNDERSTORM I 27 

ten jrears ! Of course the heat is sometimes fearful, l^ovi 
It is mid-winter, and the air is comparatively cool and bra- 
cing, but in midsummer it reaches 110 and 112 degrees in the 
shade ! For days and nights together the heat is so intense 
that not a leaf stirs in the palm groves. Not only is there 
u.'Xj a drop of rain — there is not a breath of air. This it is 
to have a " cloudless sky" ! Gladly then would our friend 
exchange for half the year the climate of Egypt for that of 
America. How refreshing it would be to him to see, just 
for once, great masses of black clouds gathering over the 
Arabian Hills, to see the lightnings flash as he has seen 
them in his native Ohio, and to hear the thunder-peals roll- 
ing across the valley from mountain to mountain, and at lasf 
dying away on the Libyan desert. 

Think of this, ye who shiver in your winter storms at 
home, and sigh for Egypt. Tak** »*• «J1 in all, would jop 
mftke the exchange ? 



CHAPTER in. 

THE TEMPLES OF EGYPT — DID MOSES GET HIS LAW FBOM TEl 

EGYPTIANS ? 

In the distribution of the monuments of Egypt, it is a 
curious fact that the Pyramids are found almost wholly in 
Lower Egypt, and the great Temples in Upper Egypt. It 
was not till we had been a week on the Nile, that we had 
our first sight of the latter at Denderah. We have since 
spent three days at Thebes, the great centre of historical in- 
terest, and have made a regular campaign of sight-seeing, 
starting on excursions every morning, and thus have explored 
the ruins on both sides of the river — for Thebes, like many 
other great cities — like London and Paris — was built on two 
sides of a river, but one much greater than the Thames or 
the Seine, yet not so great but that it was spanned by a 
bridge (at least this is inferred from some ancient sculptures 
and inscriptions), over which poured a population such as 
pours over London Bridge to-day. The site seems made for 
a great capital, for here the mountains retire from the river, 
sweeping round in a circuit of some fifty miles, leaving a 
broad plain to be filled with human habitations. Here four 
thuusand years ago was built a city greater than that on the 
banks of the Tigris or the Euphrates, than Nineveh or Baby- 
lon. Here was the centre of power and dominion for two 
continents — not only for Africa, but for Asia — to which 
flocked the multitudinous nations of Assyria and Arabia and 
Persia and the farthest East, as well as the tribes of Ethiopia 
— as two thousand years later all the peoples of the earth 
flocked to Kome. It is easy, from historical records and 



THE TEMPLES OF EGYPT. 29 

monumental inscriptions, to form some idea of the glory of 
this capital of the ancient world. We can imagine the tu- 
mult and the roar of this more ancient Rome, when the char- 
iots of mighty kings, and the tread of armies returning 
victorious from distant wars, thundered through her hundred 
gates. 

Then did the kings of Egypt rear temples and palaces and 
statues and obelisks worthy of all that greatness. Then 
were built the most gigantic temples ever raised by the hand 
of man — as much surpassing in vastness and grandeur thos« 
reared centuries afterward by the Greeks, as the latter sur- 
pass anything by the moderns. The temples of Thebes — 
including Luxor and Karnac, which are parts of one city — 
are as much grander than the Parthenon, as the Parthenon is 
grander than the Madeleine at Paris, which is a feeble at- 
tempt to copy it. 

We have now been a week — beginning with Denderah — ■ 
studying these ruins, and may give certain general impres- 
sions. We do not attempt any detailed description, which 
must necessarily be inadequate, since neither words nor fig- 
ures convey an idea of them, any more than they do of the 
Alps. What would be thought of an avenue nearly two 
miles long, lined with over twelve hundred colossal sphinxes ? 
Yet such was the avenue from Luxor to Karnac — -an ap- 
proach worthy to lead to the temple of the gods. What can 
we say of a forest of columns, each twelve feet in diameter, 
stretching out in long colonnades ; of the massive walls cov- 
ered with bas-reliefs ; and obelisks in single shafts of granite, 
of such height and weight that it is the wonder of modern 
engineering how they could be cut from the side of the hills, 
and be brought a hundred and forty miles, and erected o» 
their firm bases. 

But this temple — or rather cluster of temples and palaces 
— ^was not, like the temple of Solomon, finished in a singla 
reign. Karnac was not the work of one man, or of one gmk- 



30 THE TEMPLES OF EGTPf . 

eration. It was twenty-five hundred years in building, sue 
cessive kings and dynasties adding to the mighty whole, 
which was to represent all the gloiy of Egypt. 

The general impression of these temples — and the same is 
true of the Egyptian statues and sculptures — is one of gran- 
deur rather than beauty. They seek to overpower the senses 
by mere size. Sometimes they overdo the matter. Thus in 
the temples at Karnac the columns seem to me too large 
and too much crowded for the best effect. Ordinary trees 
may be planted in a dense grove, but great, broad- spreading 
oaks or elms require space around them ; and if these col- 
umns were a little more spaced — to use a printer's word — 
the architectural effect would be still grander. So in the 
Egyptian sculpture, everything is colossal. In the granite 
lions and sphinxes theie is always an aspect of power in re- 
pose which is very impressive, and strikes one with awe. But 
in any lighter work, such as frescoes and bas-reliefs, there is 
a total absence of delicacy and grace. Nothing can be more 
stiff. They sometimes have a rude force of drawing, but 
beauty they have none. That was born in Greece. All the 
sculptures on all the temples of Egypt are not worth — except 
as historical monuments- — the friezes of the Parthenon. 

One thing else has struck me much as to the plan of these 
temples, viz : that we see in them the types and models of 
much that has been reproduced in various forms of ecclesi- 
astical architecture. One has but to observe with some care 
the construction of these vast basilicas, to see how many fea- 
tures of Jewish, and even of Christian and Moslem architec- 
ture, have been aiopted from still older temples ind an 
earlier religion. Thus in the temple at Edfoo there is first 
the vast enclosure surrounding the whole, and then within 
the walls an outer court open to the sky, corresponding to 
the Court of the Gentiles in the Temple at Jerusalem, to 
the Court of the Fountains leading to the Mosques, and the 
iloister surrounding the approaches to old abbeys and cathe 



DESOLATION AT THEBES. 81 

drais. One might find a still closer resemblance ia foiias oi 
worship, in the vestments of priests, in the altars, and in the 
burning of incense, etc., a parallel which scholars have often 
traced. 

And now of all this magnificence and glory of the ancient 
capital of Egypt, what remains ? Only these vast ruins of 
temples aiid palaces. The " plain of Thebes " is still here, 
but deserted and silent. A few columns and statues rise 
above the plain to mark where the city stood, but the city 
itself is gone as much as the people who inhabited it four 
thousand years ago. A few miserable mud huts are built 
against the walls of mighty temples, and the ploughman 
drives his team over the dust of the city of a hundred gates. 
I saw a fellah ploughing with a cow and a camel yoked to- 
gether, and a couple of half -naked Arabs raising water with 
their shadoofhetween the Memnon (the statue which was 
said to sing when its stony lips were touched by the rising 
of the sun) and its brother statue — the two great Colossi, 
between which ran the Royal street to Luxor. Was there 
ever a more complete and utter desolation ? In the temple 
called the Rameseum once stood the largest statue that ever 
was known — that of Rameses the Great (the same who had 
a statue at Memphis, for he erected monuments to himself 
everywhere), cut out of a single block of granite brought 
from the First Cataract, and weighing nearly nine hundred 
tons ! On this was inscribed, as Herodotus writes, who saw 
it twenty-three hundred years ago : ^' I am the king of kings : 
if any man wish to know how great I am, and where I lie, 
let him surpass one of my works ! " What a comment on 
the emptiness of human ambition, that this colossal statue, 
which was to last to the end of the world, was long ago 
pulled down by a later conqueror, Cambyses, the Persian, 
and now lies on its back, with its nose knocked c ff, and eye« 
p at out, and all its glory in the dust ! 

.In studying the figures and the inscriptions on tLi walls 



52 TEE ANCIENT CIVILIZATION. 

of temples, there are many things which throw light on the 
manners and customs of the ancient Egyptians. Here is a 
Bcene of hunting, or of fishing, or of feasting. Here are tha 
different trades, which show the skill of the people in the 
mechanic arts, and many scenes which give us an insight 
into their domestic life. These have been the subjects of 
two* learned and most interesting works by Wilkinson, 
which open the very interior of ancient Egypt to our modern 
eyes. They show a very high degree of civilization — of skill 
in all the useful arts, a skill fully equal in many things, and 
in some greatly superior, to that of our own day. Wendell 
Phillips, in his famous lecture on " The Lost Arts," finds 
many of his illustrations in ancient Egypt. I could not but 
think that this furnished a very effective answer to those 
advocates of evolution, who hold that mankind sprung from 
animals, and have gradually developed to their present 
state. How much progress have the Egyptians made in four 
thousand years ? Here the race has gone backward, so thai 
there is certainly no inherent tendency in our nature to 
advance. 

But I was less interested in studying the domestic life of 
the ancient Egyptians, than their religious ideas. Herodotus 
says that the Egyptians were a very religious people, excel- 
ling all others in the honors paid to their gods ; and this we 
can well believe, seeing the temples that they reared for their 
worship. But what were the gods they adored, and what 
sort of worship did they render, and how did all this act on 
the life and character of the people ? Here we obtain a less 
exalted estimate of the ancient Egyptians. The remaina 
which they have left, while they illustrate the greatness of 
the empire, which four thousand years ago had its seat in 
the valley of the Nile, do not give a high idea of its Keligion. 
The land was wholly given to idolatry. The Egyptians had 
as many gods as the Greeks and Romans, only baser and 
lower, indicating baser and lower ideas. They made goda, 



EGYPTIAN IDOLATKT THE SACRED BULI.S. 3£ 

not only of the sun, moon, and stars, but of beasts and birda 
and reptiles — of the apis and the ibis — of the serpent and 
the crocodile. 

At Sakkara we visited one of the most stupendous mauso- 
leums that we have seen in Egypt — one which Herodotua 
described, but which for centuries was so buried by the 
sands of the desert that its very site was not known until 
brought to light by the researches of Mariette Bey, who haa 
done so much to restore the monuments of ancient Egypt. 
rhe approach to it was by an avenue of sphinxes, which led 
to a Tast subterranean gallery — twenty feet wide and high — 
and leading two thousand feet, more than a third of a mile, 
under the earth. This long, vaulted passage is hewn in the 
solid rock — out of which open on either side a series of 
chambers or recesses, like side chapels — each containing a 
sarcophagus, 15x8 feet. These tombs, hollowed out of the 
solid granite, are so huge and massive that we wonder how 
they ever could have been got there. Yet these great sarco- 
phagi — fit for the burial places of a long line of kings — were 
not for the Pharaohs or the Ptolemies, but for tlie Sacred 
Bulls ! Thirty of these sarcophagi have been found, and on 
the walls are tablets which record the birth, and death, and 
burial of each one of these sacred beasts. These were the 
gods of Egypt, mother of the arts, and civilizer of the earth ! 
This great repository of dead divinities is a colossal monu- 
ment, at once of the architectural skill of the ancient Egyp- 
tians, and of their degrading superstition. 

This single fact is enough to answer those who would im- 
ply, if they do not quite dare to assert, that the inspiration 
of the Books of Moses was derived from the Egyptians. li 
IS a favorite theory of certain writers that Moses, being 
brought up in Egypt, here obtained both the Law an i the 
Religion which he gave to the Israelites. No doubt he did 
learu much from a country that was at that time the mosi 
civilized in the world. He vas brought up in a court, and €» 
2* 



34 DID MOSES GET HIS LAW 

joyed every advantage of a royal education. He was " learned 
in all the wisdom of the Egyptians." And it detracts not at 
all from his inspiration, to suppose that he may have been 
instructed to embody in his new and better code whatever 
was excellent in tne older system, and had been approved by 
the experience of centuries. The ceremonial laws — such as 
those of purijS.cation — may have been adopted from the 
Egyptians. But these are the mere fringes of the garment 
of the great Lawgiver. As soon as we open the Hebrew 
Scriptures, we find traces of a wisdom such as the Egyptians 
never knew. The very first sentence — " In the beginning 
God created the heavens and the earth" — scatters the fables 
of Isis and Osiris, and substitutes for the troop of heathen 
deities the worship of One Living and True God. This single 
declaration marks a stupendous advance in the religious faith 
and worship of mankind. 

The same first principle appears as the corner-stone of the 
law given on Mount Sinai : ^' I am the Lord thy God which 
brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of 
bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before me." 

The second law of the first table breaks in pieces the im 
ages of the gods of the Egyptians : *' Thou shalt not make 
unto thee any graven image, nor any likeness of any thing 
that is in heaven above, nor in the earth beneath, nor in the 
waters under the earth." This was spoken to a people that 
had just come out of a country where they worshipped beasts 
and birds and reptiles, and where the walls of the temples 
were covered with the images of all kinds of foul and creep- 
ing things. 

In this age of the world, and among civilized nations, we 
cannot understand the passion for idolatry. Yet it is one of 
the most universal and ineradicable instincts of a half barba- 
rous people. They see tokens of an unseen power in thi 
forces of natv >e, in clouds and winds, in lightning and tei» 
I it, and •"> J torment themselves with all imaginable ter 



FEOM THE EGYPllANS? 35 

rors, from which the}'^ seek relief and protection it, bowing 
down to gods of wood and stone. 

The Israelites coming out of Egypt, were out of the house 
of t^ondage in one sense, but they were in it in another. 
They were continually relapsing into idolatry. The golden 
calf of Aaron was but an imitation of the sacred bulls of 
Egypt. Often they pined for the products of the fertile val- 
ley of the Nile. With nothing but the burning sands beneath 
their feet, they might well long for the shade of the palm 
tree and for its delicious fruit, and they said. Why hath this 
man Moses brought us up to die in this wilderness ? It re- 
quired forty years of wandering, and that a whole generation 
should leave their bones to whiten the sands of the desert, 
before their children could be wholly alienated from the wor- 
ship of false gods. So not only with the Israelites, but with 
all nations of men, ages of fiery discipline have been neces- 
sary to bring back the race to this first article of our faith : 
** I believe in God the Father Almighty, the Maker of heaven 
and earth." 

We might follow the comparison through all the tables of 
the law, to show how absurd is the pretence that what Moses 
taught to the Israelites he first learned from the Egyptians. 
Tell us, ye learned antiquaries, where on all these temples, 
and in all the records which they have left us, is there any 
trace of the Ten Commandment? ? 

And yet Egypt is connected very intimately, in history at 
least, with the birth of our religion. No other country, ex- 
cept Palestine, figures so largely in the Bible. Abraham 
went down into Egypt. Here came the sons of Jacob to buy 
corn, and found Joseph ruling in the house of Pharaoh. 
And hithei centuries later fled the virgin mother with her 
child from the wrath of Herod, fulfilling the prediction, *' Oui 
of Egypt have I called my son." 

But Religion — the Divine wisdom which at once instmctf 
and saves mankind— came not from the valley of the Nile 



86 WHEN TRUE KELIQION WAS BORN. 

Abraham and Jacob and Moses saw the Pyramids standing 
just as we see them now, but they did not point them to the 
true God. That knowledge came from a higher source. 
"History," says Bunsen, "was born on that night when 
Moses, with the law of God in his heart, led the people oi 
Israel out of Egypt." And not History only, but Religion 
then came to a new birth, that was to be the herald of new 
and better hopes, and of a higher civilization than vas known 
to the ancient world. 



CJHAPTER rV. 

THE EGYPTIAN DOCTRINE OP A FUTURE LIFE, 

The valley of the Nile is one vast sepulchre. Tombs an^ 
temples ! Temples and tombs ! This is the sum of the 
monuments which ancient Egypt has left us. Probably no 
equal portion of the earth's surface was ever so populous, at 
once with the living and the dead. It is but a narrow strip 
of territory — a line of green between two deserts; and 
yet on this mere ribbon of Africa lived the millions that 
made one of the most populous and powerful of ancient 
empires. They were fed by the marvellous fertility of 
the Nile valley, till they stood upon it almost as thick aa 
the ranks of corn that waved around them : and here, when 
life was ended, they found a resting-place in the bosom of the 
earth that nourished them, on which they slept as children on 
a mother's breast. This strip of earth, long and narrow like 
a grave, has been the sepulchre of nations. Here the 
myriads of Egypt's ancient reigns— from the time of Menea 
— through the long line of the Pharaohs and Ptolemies — the 
generations that built the Pyramids and those that came aftei 
—laid themselves down to sleep in the great valley. Thug 
the very dust of Egypt was made up of the dust of ancient 
Egyptians. 

But this was only the lot of the common people, to mingle 
their dust with common clay — their tomb the ccmmon earthy 
their end to be exhaled into the common air, or to reappear 
in other natural forms, living in plants, blooming in flowerSj 
or in broad-leaved palms, casting a shadow on the eavth fi'oiB 



38 EGYPTIAN DOCTEINE OF A FUTUiiE LIFE. 

♦vnicli they sprung. But for her great ones, more enduiiag 
monuments were reared to guard their dust and perpetuate 
their names. No people, ancient or modern, ever lavished 
«o much on these sacred and pious memorials. They ex 
poinded more on the tombs of the dead than on the houses of 
thfo living, for they reasoned that the latter were but tem- 
porary dwellings, while the former were everlasting habita 
tions. The kings of Egypt cared more for great tombs than 
great palaces, and they reared such mausoleums as the eai-th 
E.e^'er saw before. The Pyramids were their tombs, and the 
mountains were hollowed into royal sepulchres. The rock 
tombs of Beni-Hassan are cut in the side of the hills. 
The barren mountain that looks off upon the great Libyan 
desert, is honeycombed with vast and silent halls of the dead. 
At Thebes the traveller, ascending from the Nile, winds his 
way among hills of sand into a valley of desolation. The 
summits around are not covered with pines like our own 
darkly wooded hills, nor do even the rocks gather moss — but 
all is bare and desolate. The desert has overflowed the earth 
like a sea, and not a shrub nor a blade of grass has survived 
the universal deluge. Yet here where not a living thing can 
be found, has been discovered underground the most remark- 
able series of tombs which exists. A whole mountain is 
pierced with deep excavations. Passages open into its rocky 
sides, running many hundred feet into the bowels of the earth, 
and branching off into recesses like side chapels. These Halls 
of Death are like kings' palaces, with stately chambers broad 
and high, whose sides and ceilings are covered with hie- 
roglyphics and illustrative symbols. 

A fact so remarkable as this, that the architecture of a 
great empire which has built the most colossal structures in 
the world, has this tomblike character, must have a meaning 
The Egyptians were a very religious people. They were not a 
gay and thoughtless race, like some of their Asiatic and Eu- 
ropean neighbors. There is something grave even in theij 



EferYPTIAlS DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. 39 

fitces, as seen in ancient statues and monuments. Their very 
architecture had this heavy and solemn character. These 
colossal temples, these silent sphinxes, seem oppressed with 
Borae great mystery which they cannot reveal. These tombs 
ahow that the Egyptian mind was full of the idea of death, 
and of another life. The Egyptians were not Atheists, nor 
Sadducees. They believed devoutly in God, and in a life to 
come. 

How strongly the idea of another life had taken hold of the 
Egyptian mind is evident from the symbols in their religion. 
The symbol most frequently employed is that of the scarahoeiu 
— or beetle — the image of which appears everywhere, which 
by analogy teaches that life, in passing through death, may 
be born to a new life. The beetle lays its eggs in the slime 
of the Nile ; it buries them in mud, which it works into a 
ball, and rolls over and over, back to the edge of the desert, 
and buries in sand. There its work is ended : nature does 
the rest. Out of this grave comes in time a resurrection, and 
life is born of death. The ostrich eggs hung up in mosques, 
have the same symbolical meaning. The ostrich buries its 
eggs in the sand, and nature, that kind mother which watches 
over all life, gives them being. Thus is conveyed the same 
idea as in the analogy of the chrysalis and the butterfly. 

Studying the religious faith of the Egyptians a little more 
closely, we see that they believed not only in the immortality 
of the soul, but in the resurrection of the body. The doctrine 
taught by Paul, was long before taught by the priests of 
Eg}^pt. Their tombs were not merely memorials of those 
who had ceased to live, but resting-places for the bodies of 
those whose spirits were absent but would some day return. 
For this, bodies were emba toed with religious care ; they 
were buried in tombs hewn out of the solid rock, laid away 
in Pyramids, or in caverns hollowed out of the heart of the 
mountains. There, embedded in the eternal rocks, locked 
up with the bars of .the everlasting hills, it seero'^d that tlieii 



40 EGYPTIAN DOOTEINE OF A FFTtTKE LIFE. 

remains would rest secure till the morning of the resurrection 
day. 

Further, they believed not only in immortality and in 
resurrection, but also in retribution. The soul that was to 
pass into another life, was to go into it to be judged. There 
it was to be called to account for the deeds done in the body. 
Even the funeral rites indicated how strong was the belief of 
a judgment to come for all who departed this life. After the 
bodies were embalmed, they were borne in solemn procession 
to the Nile (most of the tombs being on the western bank), 
or to a sacred lake, across which they were to be ferried, 
(Did not this suggest to later Roman mythologists the river 
Styx, and the boatman Charon who conveyed departed souls 
to the gloomy shades of Pluto ?) As the funeral procession 
arrived at the borders of the lake, it paused till certain 
questions were answered, on which it depended whether the 
dead might receive burial : or should be condemned to 
wander in darkness three thousand years. If it passed 
this ordeal, it moved forward, not to its everlasting repose, 
but to the Hall of Judgment, where Osiris sits upon his 
throne as the judge of all mankind. This scene is constantly 
represented in sculptures, in bas-reliefs, and in frescoes on 
the walls of tombs. In one of them a condemned wretch is 
driven away in the shape of a pig ! (Was it here that Pytha- 
goras, who studied in Egypt, obtained his doctrine of the 
transmigration of souls ?) Before Osiris is the scribe, the 
recording angel, who keeps a faithful record of the deeds done 
in the body A long line of judges — forty- two in number — 
Bit arrayed as the final arbiters of his fate — each with his 
q^aestion, on the answer to which may depend the destiny of 
the departed soul. 

The " Book of the Dead ' (copies of which are still found 
wrapped up with mummies : several are in the British Mu- 
seum) gives the answers to b« made to these searching que» 
tions, and also tlie j)rayers to be offered, .and the hymns tha^ 



EGYPTIAN DOCTRINE OF A FUTURE LIFE. 41 

are to be sung, as the soul enters the gloomy shades of the 
under-world. 

In this Egyptian doctrine of a future life there are Ohrie- 
tiaL ideas. Some indeed will say that Egypt gave rather 
than received ; that she was the mother of all learning and 
all wisdom in the ancient world ; that the Greeks obtained 
their philosophy from her (for Plato as well as Pythagoras 
studied in Egypt) ; that the Eleusinian mysteries came from 
Africa ; that Moses here found what he taught the Hebrews ; 
and that even the Christian mysteries and the Christian faith 
came from the banks of the Nile. 

There is certainly much food for reflection in this reappear- 
ance of certain religious ideas in different countries and under 
different forms. But there is a contrast as well as a resem- 
blance. While the Hebrews learned so much from the 
Egyptians, it is very remarkable that they did not imbibe 
that strong faith in the reality of the invisible world, which 
lies at the foundation of religion. One would snppose that 
the Israelites, coming out of Egypt, would be full of these 
thoughts, and of the hopes and fears of a life to come. Yet 
in all the books of Moses, rarely, if ever, are these motives 
addressed to the Hebrews. The German critics argue from 
this that the Hebrews did not believe in another life. The 
late Dr. Edward Kobinson, the distinguished Hebrew scholar, 
said that he could not find that doctrine in the Old Testa- 
ment. Without admitting such an extreme view, it is cer- 
tainly remarkable that that idea is much less prominent in 
the Old Testament than in the New. It is not Moses, but 
Christ who has brought life and immortality to light. 

But the Egyptian doctrine of a future life, while very cu 
rious and interesting as a study of ancient belief, is utterly 
unsatisfying. The ideas are detached and fragmentary, and 
wholly without evidence or authority ; they are m3rely the 
crude fancies of mythology, and not the precise teachings of 
Revelation. And so in all the tombs and temples of Egyp t 



43 EGYPTIAN DOOTEINE OF A FUTURE LCFE. 

fchere is nothing which can relieve the doubts of a troubled 
mind, or the sorrows of a heavy heart. 

I have had some sober thoughts while floating on the bcecm 
of the Nile. We cannot but see the world through our owd 
eyes and through our moods of mind. To those who have 
left their dead beyond the sea, foreign travel has many sad 
and lonely hours. The world seems cold and empty, and 
even the most religious miud is apt to be haunted with gloomy 
thoughts. This is not a mood of mind peculiar to atheists 
and unbelievers. Many devout men, in seasons of mental 
depression, are tortured with doubts whether, after all, their 
religious faith is not a delusion and a dream. 

And so many dark and bitter questionings come tome here 
in this land of sepulchres. I have come to Egypt to learn 
something of the wisdom of the Egyptians. Tell me then, 
ye tombs and temples and pyramids, about God ; tell me 
about the life to come ! But the Pyramids speak not ; and 
the Sphinx still looks towards the East, to watch for the rising 
sun, but is voiceless and mute. This valley of the Nile 
speaks of nothing but death. From end to end its rock- 
ribbed hills are filled with tombs. Yet what do they all 
teach the anxious and troubled heart of man ? Nothing I 
All these hills are silent. Not a sonnd, or even an echo, 
comes from these dark sepulchres. No voice of hope issues 
out of the caverns hollowed in the bosom of the hills. The 
hard granite of the tombs itself is not more deaf to the cry 
of human anguish, or the voice of supplication. 

I turn from the monuments of man to nature. I stand 
on the bank of the Great Kiver, and ask if it brings not some 
Becret out of the heart of Africa ? Tell me, ye night winds, 
blowing from African deserts ; tell me, ye stars shining in the 
African heaven (this sky of Egypt is so pure and clear that 
the stars seem higher and mori^ distant from this lower world), 
what light can ye throw on this great m^'^stery of death ? 
And the stars twinkle, hut speak not, and the palm trees 



CHRISTMAS AT THEBES. 43 

quirei in the night wind, but give no answer ; and the greai 
Nile Adws on silently to the sea, as life flows on to eternity 
ISTatuie is dumb ; the great secret is not revealed. 

For the revelation of that secret we turn not to Egypt, but 
to Jerusalem. While the Egyptians groped darkly after the 
truth, how do these dim shadows, these poor emblems and 
analogies, set forth by contrast the clearer and better truth 
of revelation ! All that is written on the tombs of Egypt j 
all that is carved in stone, or written in hieroglyphics on an- 
cient sarcophagi ; all that is built in temples and pyramids ; 
is not worth that one saying of our Lord, " I am the Resur- 
rection and the Life ; he that believeth in me, though he 
were dead, yet shall he live." 

We spent Christmas day at Thebes, where a number of 
English boats had drawn up to \.„e landing to keep the day, 
so dear to the hearts of Englishmen throughout the world. 
On Christmas eve they were decorated with palm branches, 
and at night were lighted up with Chinese lanterns, while 
row-boats were floating about, the Arab boatmen singing 
their wild, plaintive melodies. 

Christmas brought a scene, if not so picturesque, yet far 
more sweet and tender. It had been our good fortune to 
meet there Rev. Dr. Potter of New York, the rector of Grace 
Church. He was going up the Nile with Miss Wolfe, of Mad- 
ison square. They were on two dahabeeahs, but kept com- 
pany, and anchored every night together. On Christmas day 
there was a service on board Miss Wolfe's boat, which was 
attended by all the English parties. It was held on the up- 
per deck, which was spread with carpets and covered with 
an awning on the top and sides to protect us from the sun. 
Whether it was the strange scene, occurring in a distant part 
of the world, or sad memories which were recalled by these 
anniversary days, seldom has a service touched me more. It 
was very sweet to hear the old, old prayers —some of there 
almost as old as Christianity itself — to which we had so oftexi 



44 OHBISTMAS AT THEBES. 

listened in other lands, and to join with the little companjp 
in the Christmas hymn : 

" Haxk I the herald angels smg-, 
Glory to the new-bom King ; 
Peace on earth and mercy mild ; 
God and man are reconciled." 

Dr. Potter read the service in his clear, riv^h voice, following 
it with a sermon which was quite extempore and brief, but 
so simple and so appropriate to the day that it went to every 
heart. And when at the close was celebrated the commu- 
nion, we all felt how pleasant it was in such a place, so far 
from home, in a country surrounded by the ruins of the tem- 
ples of old idolatries, to join in the worship of Him who on 
this day was born to be the Light and the Hope of the world. 
Better is this than all that Egypt can teach us about a life to 
come. 

And so we turn from these great temples and tombs, which 
only mock our hopes, to Him who has passed through the 
grave, and lighted the way for us to follow Him. Let schol- 
ars dispute the first intent of the words, yet nothing in the 
Old Testament or the New, more distinctly expresses what I 
rest upon than this : '' I know that my Redeemer liveth and 
that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth ; and 
though worms destroy ttia body, yet in my flesh shall I sat 



CHAPTER V. 

THE RELIGION OP THE PROPHET. 

In a re^ lew of the faiths of Egypt, one cannot overlook 
that which has ruled in the land for more than a thousand 
years, and still rules, not only in Egypt, but over a large 
part of Asia and Africa. We arrived in Cairo a few days 
too late to witness the departure of the pilgrims for Mecca. 
Once in the year there is a gathering of the faithful for a 
journey which is the event of their lives. The spectacle is 
one of the most picturesque in the East, as a long procession, 
mounted on camels, many of which are richly caparisoned, 
files through the streets of the city, amid the admiring gaze 
of the whole population, and takes the way of the desert. 
Slowly it moves Eastward to the Red Sea, and passing 
around it, turns South to the heart of the Arabian Peninsula, 

A caravan of pilgrims crossing the desert to visit the birth' 
place of the prophet, is a proof that religious enthusiasm still 
lives even in this unbelieving age. Perhaps the MosIcdi 
spirit is not so bigoted here as at Constantinople. The Turk , 
with his heavy stolid nature, is a more obstinate icrligionist 
than the Arab. And yet Mohammed was not a Turk ; he 
was an Arab, and the faith which he taught still fires the 
heart of his race. 

In one view Cairo may be considered the capital of Islam^^ 
as it is the seat of the great University, from which its 
priests go forth to all parts of the Mohammedan world. 
This University is nine hundred years old — older than Ox- 
ford, and still flourishes with as much vigor as in the palmj 



1:6 GREAT UNIVEESITY AT CAIRO. 

days of the Arabian conquest. A visit to it is the mosi 
interesting sight in Cairo. There I saw collected together— 
not one hundred or two hundred students, such as are found 
in our Theological Seminaries in America — but ten thou- 
sand ! As one expressed it, '* there were two acres of turbans," 
ussembled in a vast inclosure, with no floor but a pavement, 
and with a roof over it, supported by four hundred columns, 
ttnd at the foot of every column a teacher, surrounded by 
pupils, who sat at his feet precisely as Paul sat at the feet 
of Gamaliel. As we entered there rose a hum of thousands 
of voices, reciting the Koran. These students are not only 
from Egypt, but from all parts of Africa, from Morocco tc 
Zanzibar. They come from far up the Nile, from Nubia 
and Soudan; and from Darfour beyond the Great Desert, 
and from the western coast of Africa. Asia too is largely 
represented in students both from Western Asia, from 
Turkey, Arabia, and Persia ; and from Central Asia, from 
Khiva and Bokhara, and Turkistan and Afghanistan, and 
the borders of China. They come without staff or scrip. 
There is no endowment to support them ; no Students' Fund 
or Education Board. They live on the charities of the faith- 
ful, and when their studies are ended, those who are to be 
missionaries on this continent mount their camels, and join- 
ing a caravan, cross the Desert, and are lost in the far 
interior of Africa. 

This strange sight has set me »-thinking, and the more 
I think, the more the wonder grows. A religion that sup- 
ports great universities from generation to generation; and 
that sends forth caravans, that are like armies, on long pil 
grimages, is not dead ; it is full of life, and can bring into the 
field tremendous forces to uphold its empire in the East, 
What is the secret of its power, by which it lives on from 
century to century, and seems as if it could not but by anni- 
hilating die ? There is no question of more interest to the 
historical student ; and no one which it is more necessary tc 



THE STRENGTH OF ISLAM. 47 

understand in order to form some just idea of the greal 
Eastern War wliich is already looming above the horizon, 
A full recognition of that which is good in Islam, and of tha4 
which gives it power, would prevent many mistakes in fore 
casting the future, although it might abate the sanguine con 
fidence of our missionary friends in the speedy triumph of 
Christianity over its hereditary foe. 

First of all, we must recognize the fact of its existence as 
one of the great religions of the world. The number of its 
adherents is variously estimated at from a hundred and fifty 
to a hundred and eighty millions. It holds but a corner of 
Europe, but extends its empire over a large part of Asia and 
Africa. The whole of Africa which is not Pagan, is Moslem. 
In Asia Islam disputes the sway of Hindooism in India, 
where the Queen has more Moslem subjects than the Sultan 
himself, and of Buddhism in the islands of the Malayan 
Archipelago. Over so large a part of the earth's surface is 
extended the wide dominion of the Prophet. His followers 
number one-tenth, perhaps one-eighth, or even one-sixth part 
of the human race. 

Nor is this dominion a merely nominal thing. On the 
contrary, the true believers are strong believers. It may 
well be doubted, whether among the nations nominally 
Christian the mass of the people really believe with half the 
fi.rmness and the fervor of Mussulmans. The Moslems are as 
sincere, and in their way as devout, as the adherents of any 
religion on the face of the globe. ISTo one can enter the 
mosque of St. Sophia, and. see the worshippers turning their 
faces towards Mecca, not only kneeling but prostrating them- 
selves, touching the pavement with their foreheads, and re- 
peating, in a low, mournful tone, passages from the Koran, 
without feeling that these men really believe. Thu»a pros- 
trate forms, those wailing voices, are not the signs cf hypoc- 
••isy, but of a faith that, however mistaken, is at least sincere. 
in their owk minds they are in the presence of the llighes\ 



48 ITS MISSION AEY ZEAL. 

and offer worship to the unseen God. Indeed they are morfl 
than believers, they are zealots, carrying their faith to fanat- 
icism. A body so vast in number, composed of such fierce 
religionists, is certainly a great power in the political and 
military, as well as religious, forces, that are yet to contend 
for the mastery of the Eastern world. 

Nor is this power inactive in spreading its faith ; it is full 
of missionary zeal. Max Miiller divides all the religions of 
the world into proselyting and non-proselyting. Moham- 
medanism belongs to the former class as much as Christianity. 
The days are past when the followers of the Prophet swept 
over large parts of Asia and Africa, converting tribes and 
nations by the sword. And yet even at the present day it 
keeps up a Propaganda as vigorous as that of the Catholics 
at Rome. Its university here is training ten thousand young 
apostles. Moslem missionaries preach the Koran, and make 
proselytes, in all parts of India. But the chief field of their 
labors is in Africa, where they have penetrated far into the 
interior, and converted numerous tribes to the faith. It is 
difficult to obtain accurate statistics in regard to the spread 
of Islam in Africa. Livingstone thought the reports greatly 
exaggerated. That is quite possible, and yet, making every 
allowance, there can be no doubt that it has obtained a sue 
cess much greater than that of Christian missions. 

A religion which has such a foundation on the solid earth, 
holding nations and empires in its wide dominion ; and which 
has such a history, stretching over twelve centuries ; is a sub- 
ject worthy the closest attention of scholars. Its history is 
not unlike that of Christianity itself, in the feebleness of iti 
beginning and the greatness of its results. It started in an 
obscure corner of the world — in the deserts of Arabia- -and 
rapidly conquered the East, overrunning- all the adjacert 
parts of Asia and Africa, and extending along the Mediter 
ranean to the Straits of Gibraltar, and thence crossed intci 
Spain, where it maintained itself for eight hundred year^ 



THE CHAEACTEK OF MOHAMMED. -49 

ftgainst all the power of Europe to expel it. Such oonqiiesta 
show a prodigious vitality- — a vitality not yet exhausted, a» 
it still holds the half of Asia and Africa. A faith which 
commands the allegiance of so large a part of mankind must 
have some elements of truth to give it such tremendous 
power. Perhaps we can find the key in the character of its 
Founder, and in the faith which he taught. 

A great deal has been written about the life of Moham- 
med, but even yet his character is imperfectly understood. 
Perhaps we cannot fully understand it, for there are in it 
contradictions which perplex the most patient and candid 
student. ( By many he is dismissed at once as a vulgar im- 
postor, a sort of Joe Smith, who invented monstrous lies, and 
by stoutly sticking to them got others to believe in them, and 
as soon as he rallied a few followers about him, compelled 
neighboring tribes to accept his faith by the unsparing use 
of the sword. 

This is an easy way to get rid of a difficult historical ques- 
tion, but unfortunately it does not explain the facts. It is 
by that sort of cheap reasoning that Gibbon undertakes to 
explain the rapid spread of Christianity. But if Mohammed 
had been a cunning impostor, his first claim would have been 
to work miracles, which on the contrary he never clafmed at 
all, but distinctly repudiated. Nor was he a greedy merce- 
nary; he was a poor man; his followers relate with pride 
how he mended his own clothes, and even pegged his own 
shoes. But he combined every element of the visionary and 
the enthusiast. He had that vivid imagination that ceii^ 
ceives strongly of things invisible to the natural sense, to 
which "things that are not become as things that ai.**/' and that 
ardent temperament that kindles at the sight of these unseen 
realities. Perhaps this temperament was connected with his 
bodily constitution; from his youth he was subject to epilep* 
tic fits, and his revelations were accompanied with conviiT- 
sions. Such things are found in other religions. They are 
3 



60 NOT AN I-MPOSTOR, BUT A FANATIC. 

quite common in the history of devout and passionate Roman 
ists. Nor are thej unknown even among Protestants, wh( 
profess to be more sober and rational. Among the Metho- 
dists, at camp-meetings, a very frequent effect of religious 
emotion has been that strong men were so prostrated that 
they fell to the ground and became as dead, and when they 
recovered, retained impressions never to be effaced, as if they 
had seen things which it was not lawful to utter. The reve- 
lations of Mohammed were all accompanied by these "phy 
sical manifestations." Sometimes the angel spoke to him as 
one man to another ; at other times something within his 
bosom sounded like a bell, which he said " rent him in 
pieces." At such times he fell to the ground and foamed at 
the mouth, or his eyes turned red, and he streamed with per- 
spiration, and roared like a camel, in his struggle to give 
utterance to the revelation of God. This does not look like 
imposture, but like insanity. The constitution of such a man 
is a psychological study. 

This natural ardor was inflamed by long seclusion. From 
ids youth he loved solitude. Like the old prophets, he with- 
Jlrew from the world to be alone with God. Like Elijah, he 
fcid himself in a cave. Every year, during the month of 
Ramadan, he retired to a cave in Mount Hera, three miles 
from Mecca, to give himself up to religious contemplation ; 
and there, it is said, amid spasmodic convulsions, he had his 
first vision, in which the angel Gabriel appeared to him. 

This explanation of a mind half disordered, subject to 
dreams and visions and fanatical illusions, is much more 
rational than that of supposing in him an artful design ty 
impose a new religion on his countrymen. Like other en- 
thusiasts, he became the victim of his own illusions. His 
imagination so wrouglit upon him that he came to accept his 
visions as Divine revelations. In this he was not playing a 
part; he was not the conscious hyprocrite. No doubt h« 
believed himself what he wislied others to believe. Indoecil 



ISLAM DEKIVED FKOM JUDAISM. 51 

he made them believe, by the very sincerity and intensity o* 
his own convictions. 

Mohammedanism may be considered as a system of theol 
ogy, and as a system of morality. The former seems to have 
been derived largely from Judaism. Mohammed belonged to 
the tribe of the Koreishites, who claimed to be descended from 
A-braham through Ishmael. His family were the keepers of 
the Caaba, or holy place of Mecca, where is the black stone 
(vhich was brought from heaven, and the spring Zemzem, 
which sprang up in the desert to save the life of Hagar and 
her child. Thus he was familiar from his earliest years with 
the traditions of the patriarchs. 

When a boy of fourteen he made a journey with his uncle 
into Syria, where he may have learned more of the ancient 
faith. Much is said of his becoming acquainted with a Nes 
torian bishop or monk, from whom he is supposed, to have 
learned something of Christianity. But he could not have 
learned much, for his views of it were always extremely vague. 
It is doubtful whether he ever saw the New Testament, or had 
any knowledge of it other than that derived from some apocry- 
phal books. There is no trace in the Koran of the sublime 
doctrines of the Gospel, or even of its moral precepts. Al- 
though Mohammed professed great reverence for Jesus, whom 
w\\h. Moses he considers the greatest of prophets next to him- 
self, yet his ideas of the Religion which He taught were of the 
most indefinite kind. 

But one thing he did learn, which was common to Judaism 
and Christianity — that there is but one God. The Mono- 
theism of the Hebrews took the stronger hold of him, from its 
contrast to the worship around him, which had degenerated 
into gross idolatry. The tribes of Arabia had become as base 
idolaters as the Canaanites. Even the holy Caaba was filled 
with idols, and the mission of the prophet — as he regarded 
it — was to restore the worship of thQ One Li Fing and Trup 
God. His first burst of prophetic fire and prcphe dc wvati 



59 THE MOSLEM CREED. 

was a fierce explosion against idolatry, and it was a moment of 

triumph when he was able to walk through the Caaba, and see 
the idols dashed in pieces. 

Here then is the first and last truth of Islam, the existence 
of one God. The whole is comprehended in this one saying, 
'* God is God, and Mohammed is his prophet." 

' With the homage due to God, is the respect due to Hii 
revealed will. Moslems claim for the Koran what many 
Christians do not claim f«r the Bible — a literal and verbal 
inspiration. Every word is Divine. 

And not only is the unity of God the cardinal truth, but 
it is vital to salvation. In this respect Islam is a Religion. 
It is not a mere philosophy, the acceptance or rejection of 
which is a matter of indifference. It is not merely a system 
of good morals — it is a Divine code for the government of 
mankind, whose acceptance is a matter of life and death — of 
salvation or damnation. 

The doctrine of retribution is held by the Moslems in its 
most rigid form — more rigid indeed than in the Christian 
system: for there is no atonement for sin. The judgment is 
inexorable ; it is absolute and eternal. Before their eyes 
ever stands the Day of Judgment — the Dies Irse — when all 
men shall appear before God to receive their doom. 

But in that last day, when unbelievers shall be destroyed, 
the followers of the prophet shall be saved. They can go to 
the tribunal of their Maker without trembling. One day rid- 
ing outside the walls of Constantinople, we approached a 
cemetery just as a funeral procession drew near, bearing the 
form of the dead. We stopped to witness the scene. The 
mourners gathered around the place where the body was laid, 
and then the ulema approached the grave, and began an ad- 
dresa to the dead, telling her ( it was a woman ) not to be 
afraid when the angel came to call her to judgment, but to 
appear before the bar of the Almighty, and answer withci* 
fear, for that no follower of the prophet should perish. 



STRICT RELIGIOUS OBSKRVAN-QES. 53 

Tlie religious observances of the Moslems are very strict 
A-S God is the sole object of worship, so the great act of E.» 
ligion is communion with Him. Five times a day the voice 
of the muezzin calls them to prayer. The frequent ablu- 
tions were perhaps derived from the Jewish law. Fasting is 
imposed with a severity almost unknown in the Christian 
world. The most rigid Catholics hardly observe the forty 
days of Lent as the Moslems do the month of Ramadan 
Almsgiving is not only recommended, but required. Every 
true believer is commanded to give one-tenth of his income 
10 charity. 

As to the moral results of Mohammedanism^ it produces 
some excellent effects. It inculcates the strictest temper- 
ance. The Koran prohibits the use of wine, even though 
wine is one of the chief products of the East. In this virtue 
of total abstinence the Moslems are an example to Chris- 
tians. 

So in point of integrity ; the honesty of the Turk is a pro 
verb in the East, compared with the lying of Christians. 
Perhaps this comes in part not only from his religion, but 
from the fact that he belongs to the conquering race. Ty- 
rants and masters do not need to deceiA^e, while falsehood 
and deceit are the protection of slaves."] Subject races, 
which have no defence before the law, or from cruel masters, 
seek it in subterfuge and deception. But this claim of in- 
tegrity may be pushed too far. However it may be in Asia 
Minor, among simple-minded Turks, who have not been 
" spoiled by coming in contact with Christians," those who 
have to do with Turks in the bazaars of Constantinople, are 
compelled to confess, that if they do not tell lies, they tell 
very big truths. However, as between the Turk and the 
Greek, in point of honesty, it is quite possible that thoss 
who know them both would give the preeminence to the 
former. 

Whatever the weakness of Mohammedanism, it does ncl 



54 DEMOCRATIC SPIRIT. 

show itself in that sort of vices. His very j. ride makes tlit 
Mussulman scorn these meaner sins. His religion, as it lifts 
him up with self-esteem, produces an effect on his outward 
bearing. He has an air of independence which is unmis- 
takable. I think I never saw a Mussulman that was afraii^ 
to look me in the face. He has none of the sneaking ser- 
vilit}'' that we see in some races. This is a natural conse 
quence of his creed, according to which God is so great that 
no man is great in his sight. Islam is at once a theocracy 
and a democracy. God is sole Lawgiver and King, before 
whom all men stand on the same level. Hence men of all 
nations and races fraternize together. In Constantinople 
blacks and whites, the men of Circassia and the men of 
Ethiopia, walk arm in arm, and stand on the level of abso 
lute equality. 

This democratic spirit is carried everywhere. There is no 
caste in Islam, not even in India, where it is at perpetual 
war with the castes of Hindooism. So as it spreads in the 
interior of Africa, it raises the native tribes to a degree of 
manliness and self-respect which they had not known before. 
It " levels up " the African race. Our missionaries in 
Liberia, who come in contact with certain Moslem tribes 
from the interior, such as the Mandingoes, will testify that 
they are greatly superior to those farther South, on the Gold 
Coast, the Ashantees and the people of Dahomey, who have 
filled the world with horror by their human sacrifices. All 
this disappears before the advance of Islam. It breaks in 
pieces the idols; it destroys d'3vil worship and fetichism and 
witchcraft, and puts an end to human sacrifices. Thus il 
renders a service to humanity and civilization. 

So far Islam is a pretty good religion — not so good indeed 
as Christianity, but better than any form of Paganism. I< 
has many elements of truth, derived chiefly from Judaism 
So far as Mohammed followed Moses — so far as the KoraB 
followed the Old Testament — they uttered only the tr ith, 



IffO IDEA OF GOD AS A J ITHEE. 5C 

and truth whicli was fundamental. The unity of God is 
tl\e foundation of religion. It is not oiAj a truth, but the 
greatest of truths, the first condition of any right religious 
worship. In declaring this, Mohammed only proclaimed to 
the Arabs what Moses had proclaimed to the Hebrews : 
" Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. " But he 
repeated it with great vehemence and effect, wielding it as 
a battle-axe to break in pieces the idols of the heathen. 
And so far — as against idolatry — Islam has served a great 
purpose in history. But there its utility ends. It teaches 
indeed that there is but one God. But what a God is that 
which it presents to our worship ! " This God is not our 
God," The Mohammedan idea of God is very different from 
the Christian idea of a Father in heaven. It is the idea of 
the Awful, the Invisible — grand indeed, yet cold and distant 
and far away, like the stars on the desert, or in the Arctic 
night, " wildly, spiritually bright," shining with a glittering 
splendor, but lofty and inaccessible, beyond the cries of 
human agony or despair. This view of God is so limited 
and partial as to produce the effect of positive error. In a 
just religious system there must be included the two ideas of 
God and man ; and these in their proper relation to each 
other. Exclusive contemplation of either leads astray. 
When man fastens on the idea of one God, he plants him- 
self on a rock. But he must not bow himself upon the rock^ 
and clasp it so as to forget his own separate individuality, 
lest the mighty stone roll over upon him and crush him. 
This the Mussulman does. He dwells so on the idea of God, 
that his own existence is not only lost sight of, but annihil- 
ated. The mind, subdued in awe, is at length overpowered 
by what it beholds. Man is nothing in that awful presence, 
as his life is but a point in the Divine eternif \r. 

It cannot be denied that the idea of God, and Go i alone, 
may produce some grand effects on human character. It ir 
spires courage. If God 1^ for us, who can be against us * 



56 FATALISM — MOSLEM MORALFrY. 

That God is for him, the Mussulman never doubts ; and thia 
confidence inspires him in danger, and on the field of battle, 
so that he fights with desperation. But if the fortune of 
war be against him, who so well as the devout Mussulman 
knows how to suffer and to die? He murmurs not; but 
bows his head, saying " God is great," and submits to hia 
fate. Thus his creed carried out to its logical consequence 
ends in fatalism. He believes so absolutely in God, that 
the decrees of the Almighty become a fixed fate, which the 
will of man is impotent to resist. All this comes from an 
imperfect idea of God. Here Islam is defective, just where 
Christianity is complete. t 

There is nothing in Mohammedanism that brings God 
down to earth, within the range of human sympathy or 
even of human conception. There is no incarnation, no 
Son of God coming to dwell among men, hungry and weary, 
bearing our griefs and carrying our sorrows, suffering in the 
garden, and dying on the cross. 

The Mussulman does not feel his need of such help. In 
his prayers there is no acknowledgment of sin, no feeling of 
penitence, no confession of unworthiness. He knows not 
how poor and weak he is, with a religion in which there 
is no Saviour and Kedeemer, no Lamb of God that taketh 
away the sin of the world, no Holy Spirit to help our in- 
firmities, to strengthen our weaknesses. 

So with Moslem morality ; if we scan it closely, we find 
it wanting in many virtues. Some writers give the most 
elevated ideas of it. Says Chambers' Cyclopaedia : " Aside 
from the domestic relations, the ethics of the Mohammedac 
religion are of the highest order. Pride, calumny, revenge, 
avarice, prodigality, and debauchery, are condemned through- 
out the Koran ; while trust in God, submission to His will, 
patience, modesty, forbearance, love of peace, sincerity, fru- 
gality, benevolence, liberality, are everywhere insisted upon." 

This is very high praise. But mark the exception 



THE DEGRADATION OF WCMAW. 57 

"Aside from the domestic relations." Tkat exception takes 
out of the system a ^hole class of virtues, and puts a class 
of vices in their place. Here is the great crime of Islam 
Rgainst humanity — its treatment of woman. We will not 
charge against it more than belongs to it. The seclusion of 
woman is not a Mohammedan custom so much as an Oriental 
one, and one of a very ancient date. When Abraham sent 
a servant to find a wife for Isaac, and he returned bringing 
Rebekah, as the caravan drew near home, and Isaac went 
out to meditate at eventide, as soon as Rebekah saw him in 
the distance, she lighted off from her camel and " veiled her- 
self." Polygamy too existed before Mohammed : it existed 
among the patriarchs. It is claimed that Mohammed re- 
pressed it, limiting a man to four wives, although he fax 
exceeded the number himself. Gibbon, who never misses 
an opportunity of making a point against the Bible, says : 
** If we remember the seven hundred wives and three hundred 
concubines of the wise Solomon, we shall applaud the modesty 
of the Arabian who espoused no more than seventeen or 
fifteen wives." But this pretence of self-restraint is a 
mockery. It is notorious that Mohammed was a man of the 
grossest licentiousness ; and the horrible and disgusting thing 
about it is that he grew more wicked as he grew older ; and 
while trying to put restraint upon others put none upon 
himself. He punished licentiousness with a hundred stripes, 
and adultery with death, and yet he was a man of unbounded 
profligacy, and to make it worse, pleaded a Divine revelation 
to justify it ! 

This example of the prophet has had its influence on all 
the generations of his followers. It has trailed t> e slime of 
the serpent over them all. Any one who has been in a 
Mohammedan country must have felt that the position of 
woman is a degradation. One cannot see them gliding through 
the streets of Cairo or Constantinople, with their faces vail- 
ed as if it were a shame to lock on them, and passirg swift^' 
3* 



68 ORTJELTT OF TUKKS AND ARAJB8. 

as if indeed it were a sin for them to be seen abroad, with 

out a feeling of pity and indignation. 

And in what a position are such women at home, if it can 
be called a home, where there is no family, no true domestic 
life ! The wife of a Mohammedan — the mother of his chil 
dren — is little better than a slave. She is never presented to 
his friends — indeed you could not offer a greater insult to a 
Turk than to ask after his wife ! Of course there is no such 
thing as society where women are not allowed to appear. 
Such a society as that of London or Paris, composed of men 
eminent in government, in science and literature — a society 
refined and elevated by the presence of women of such edu- 
cation and manners aod knowledge of the world as to be the 
fit companions of such men — could not possibly exist in Con- 
stantinople. 

But the degradation of woman is not the only crime to be 
charged to Islam. In fit companionship with it is cruelty. 
Mohammed had many virtues, but he had no mercy. He 
was implacable toward his enemies. He massacred his prison ■ 
ers, not from hard necessity, but with a fierce delight. Fan- 
aticism extinguished natural compassion, and he put his ene- 
mies to death with savage joy. In this his followers have 
" bettered his instructions." The Turks are cruel, perhaps 
partly by nature, but partly also because any tender sympa- 
thies of nature are kept down by a fiery zeal. Their religion 
does not make them merciful. When a people have become 
possessed with the idea that they are the peojjle of God, and 
that others are outcasts, they become insensible to the suffer- 
ings of those outside of the consecrated pale. 

In the Greek Revolution the people of Scio joined in the 
rebfiillion. A Turkish army landed on the island, an i in two 
months put 23,000 of the inhabitants to the sword, ^\ithout 
distinction of age or sex ; 47,000 were sold into slavery, and 
6,000 escaped to Greece. In four months the Christian pop 
Illation was reduced from 104,000 to 2,000. 



OOOD GOVERNMENT IMPOSSIBLE. 59 

What the Turks are in Europe and Asia, the Arabs are in 
Africa. The spread of Mohammedanism is a partial civiliza- 
tion of some heathen tribes. But, alae, the poor natives 
come in contact with " civilization ' and " religion " in an 
other way — in the Arab slave-hunters, who, though they are 
Mohammedans, and devoutly pray toward Mecca, are the 
most merciless of human beings. One cannot read fhe pages 
of Livingstone without a shudder at the barbarities practised 
on defenceless natives, which have spread terror and desola- 
tion over a large part of the interior of Africa, 

These cruel memories rise up to spoil the poetry and ro- 
;nance which some modern writers have thrown about the re- 
ligion of the prophet. They disturb my musings, when awed 
or touched by some features of Moslem faith; when I listen 
to the worship in St. Sophia, or witness the departure of 
pilgrims for Mecca. Whatever Oriental pomp or splendor 
may still survive in its ancient worship, at its heart the sys- 
tem is cold, and hard, and cruel ; it does not acknowledge the 
brotherhood of man, but exalts the followers of the prophet 
into a caste, who can look down on the rest of mankind 
with ineffable scorn. Outside of that pale, man is not a 
brother, but an enemy — an enemy not to be won by love, but 
to be conquered and subdued, to be made a convert or a 
slave. Not only does the Koran not bid mercy to be shown 
to unbelievers, but it offers them, as the only alternatives, 
conversion, or slavery, or death. 

Needs it any argument to show how impossible is good 
government under a creed in which there is no recognition 
of justice and equality ? I think it is Macaulay who says 
that the worst Christian government is better than the best 
Mohammedan government. Wherever that religion exists, 
there follow inevitably despotism and slavery, by which it 
crushes man, as by its polygamy and organized licentiousness, 
it degrades and crushes woman. I Polygamy*, despotism and 
slavery form the trinity of woes which Mohr^ftimedALJsm hai 



60 WILL THE OEESOENT EVEB WANE 1 

^used to weigh for ages, like a nightmare, on the whol« 
Eastern world. Such a system is as incompatible with 
civilization as with Christianity, and sooner or later must paaa 
away, unless the human race is to come to a standstill, or to 
go backward 

But when and how ? I am not sanguine of any speedy 
change. Such changes come slowly. We expect too much 
and too soon. In an age of progress we think that all forms 
of ignorance and superstition must disappear before the ad- 
vance of civilization. But the vis inertice opposes a steady 
resistance. It has been well said, '' We are told that know- 
ledge is power, but who has considered the power of igno- 
rance ? " How long it lives and how hard it dies ! We hear 
much of the " waning crescent," but it wanes very slowly, and 
it sometimes seems as if the earth itself would grow old and 
perish before that waning orb would disappear from the 
heavens. Christian Missions make no more impression upon 
Islam than the winds of the desert upon the cliffs of Mount 
Sinai. 

I do not look for any great change in the Mohammedan 
world, except in the train of political changes. That religion 
is so bound up with political power, that until that is de- 
stroyed, or terribly shaken, there is little hope of a generaJ 
turning to a better faith. War and Revolution are the fiery 
chariots that must go before the Gospel, to herald its coming 
and prepare its way. Material forces may open the door to 
moral influences ; the doctrines of human freedom and of 
human brotherhood may be preached on battle plains as well 
as in Christian temples. When the hard iron crust of Islam 
is broken up, and the elements begin to melt with fervent 
heat, the Eastern world may be moulded into new forma, 
Then will the Oriental mind be brought into an impressibU 
■tate, in which argument and persuasion can act upon it ; 
and it may yield to the combined influence of civilization and 
Christianity. The change will be slow. It will take years 



THE FUTUEE PILGRIMAGE. 61 

it may take centuries. But sooner or later the fountains of 
the great deep will be broken up. That cold, relentless sys- 
tem must pass away before the light and warmth of that mil del 
faith which recognizes at once the brotherhood of man and 
the fatherhood of God. 

In that coming age there may be other pilgrimages and 
processions going up out of Egypt. *' The dromedaries shall 
come from far." But then, if a caravan of pilgrims issues 
from Cairo, to cross the desert, to seek the birthplace of the 
founder of its religion, it \\dll not turn South to Mecca, but 
North to Bethlehem, asking with the Magi of old, " Where 
is he that is born King of the Jews ? for we have seen bii 
star in the East, and are come to w^irship him." 



CHAPTER VL 

MODERN EGYPT AND THE KHBDIVI. 

Egypt is a country with a long past, as we found in going 
up the Nile ; may we not hope, also, with a not inglorious 
future ? For ages it was sunk so low that it seemed to b« 
lost from the view of the world. No contrast in history 
could be greater than that between its ancient glory and its 
modern degradation. Its revival dates from about the begin- 
ning of the present century, and, strange to say, from the 
invasion of Egypt by Napoleon, which incidentally brought 
to the surface a man whose rise from obscurity, and whose 
subsequent career, were only less remarkable than his own. 
When Napoleon landed in Egypt at the head of a French 
army of invasion, among the forces gathered to oppose him 
was a young Albanian, who had crossed over from Greece ai 
the head of three hundred men. This was Mehemet Ali, 
who soon attracted such attention by his daring and ability, 
that a few years after the French had been driven out, as the 
country was still in a distracted state, which required a man of 
vigor and capacity, he was made Pasha of Egypt — a position 
which he retained from that time (1806) until liis death ic 
1850. Here he had new dangers, which he faced with thf^ 
same intrepidity. That which first made his name known 
to the world as a synonym of resolute courage and implaca- 
ble levenge, was the massacre of the Mamelukes. These 
had long been the real masters of Egypt — a terror to every 
successive government, as were the Janissaries tc» the Sultan 
in Constantinople. Mehemet Ali had been but *lve yo'dvs in 



MEUEMET ALL GS 

power, when, finding that lie was becoming tjo strong for 
them, they plotted to destroy him. He learned of the con- 
spiracy just in time, and at once determined to '' fight fire 
with fire ; " and, inviting them to the Citadel of Cairo fur 
acme public occasion, suddenly shut the gates, and manning 
the walls with his troops, shot them down in cold blood. Only 
one man escaped by leaping his horse from the wall. This 
savage butchery raised a cry of horror throughout Europe, 
and Mehemet Ali was regarded as a monster of treachery 
and of cruelty. It is impossible to justify such a deed by 
any rules of civilized warfare. But this, it is said, was not 
civilized warfare ; ii was simply a plot of assassination on 
one side, forestalled by assassination on the other. I do not 
justify such reasoning. And yet I could not but listen with 
interest to Nubar Pasha (the most eloquent talker, as well 
as the most enlightened statesman, of Egypt), as he defend- 
ed the conduct of his hero. He, indeed, has a hereditary 
allegiance to Mehemet Ali, which he derived from his 
uncle, the prime minister. Said he : " The rule of the 
Mamelukes was anarchy of the worst kind ; it was death to 
Egypt, and it is right to kill death." The reasoning is 
not very difierent from that by which Mr. Eroude justifies 
Cromwell's putting the garrison of Drogheda to the sword. 
Certainly in both cases, in Egypt as in Ireland, the end was 
peace. Erom that moment the terror of Mehemet Ali's name 
held the whole land in awe ; and from one end of the valley 
of the Nile to the other, there was perfect security. ^' Every 
tree planted in Egypt," said Nubar Pasha, " is due to him ; 
for till then the people in the country did not dare to plant 
a tree, for the Mamelukes or the wandering Bedouins came 
and pitched their tents under its shade, and then re \>bed the 
village." But now every wandering tribe that hovered on 
the borders of the desert, was struck with fear and dread, 
and did not dare to provoke a power which knew no mercy. 
Hence the plantations of palms which have sprung up 



64 MEHEMET ALT. 

around the Arab villages, and the beautiful avenues of treei 
which have been planted along the roads. 

It is not strange that such a man soon became too power- 
ful, not only for the Mamelukes, but for Turkey. The Sul- 
'tan did not like it thai one of his subjects had ** grown so 
great," and tried more than once to remove him. But the 
servant had become stronger than his master, and would not 
be removed. He raised a large army, to which he gave the 
benefit of European discipline, and in the latter part of his 
life invaded Syria, and swept northward to Damascus and 
Aleppo, and was only prevented from marching to Constan- 
tinople by the intervention of foreign powers. It seems a 
pity now that France and England interfered. The Eastern 
question might have been nearer a solution to-day, if the 
last blow to the Grand Turk had been given by a Moslem 
power. But at least this was secured, that the rule of 
Egypt was confirmed in the family of Mehemet Ali, and the 
Viceroy of Egypt became as fixed and irremovable as the 
Sultan himself. 

Mehemet Ali died in 1850, and was succeeded by his son 
Ibrahim Pasha, who inherited much of his father's vigor. 
Ismail Pasha, the present Khedive, is the son of Ibrahim 
Pasha, and grandson of Mehemet Ali. Thus he has the 
blood of warriors in his veins, with which he has inherited 
much of their proud spirit and indomitable will. 

No ruler in the East at the present moment attracts more 
of the attention of Europe. I am sorry to go away from 
Cairo without seeing him. I have had two opportunities 
of being presented, though not by any seeking or suggestion 
of my own. But friends who were in official positions had 
arranged it, and the time was fixed twice, but in both cases 
I had to leave on the day appointed, once to go up the Nile, 
and the other to embark at Suez. I cannot give therefore a 
personal description of the man, but can speak of him only 
from the repoHs of others, among whom are some who aea 



THE KHEDIVE. 65 

him often and know him well. The Khedive has many 
American officers in his service, some of them in high com- 
mands (General Stone is chief of the " Etat-Major ") and 
these are necessarily brought into intimate relations with him. 
These officers I find without exception very enthusiastic in 
their admiration. This is quite natural. They are brought 
into relations with him of the most pleasant kind. He 
wants an army, and they organize it for him. They disci- 
pline his troops ; if need be, they fight his battles. As they 
minister to his desire for power, and for military display, he 
gives them a generous support. And so both parties are 
equally pleased with each other. 

But making full allowance for all these prepossessions in 
his favor, there are certain things in which not only they, 
but all who know the present ruler of Egypt, agree, and 
which therefore may be accepted without question, which 
show that he has a natural force of mind and character 
which would be remarkable in any man, and in one of his 
position are still more extraordinary. Though living in a 
palace, and surrounded by luxury, he does not pass his time 
in idleness, but gives himself no rest, hardly taking time for 
food and sleep. I am told that he is *' the hardest- worked 
man in Egypt." He rises very early, and sees his Ministers 
before breakfast, and supervises personally every department 
of the Government to such extent indeed as to leave little 
for others to do, so that his Ministers are merely his secre- 
taries. He is the government. Louis XIV. could not more 
truly say, " I am the State," than can the Khedive of Egypt, 
BO completely does he absorb all its powers. 

Such activity seems almost incredible in an Oriental. II 
would be in a Turk. But Ismail Pasha boasts that "he 
has not a drop of Turkish blood in his veins." It is easy to 
see in his restless and active mind the spirit of that fierce 
old soldier, Mehemet Ali, though softened and disciplined by 
an European education. 



66 WHAT HE HAS DONE FOE EGYPT. 

This may be a proof of great mental energy, but it is no^ 
necessarily of the highest wisdom. The men wh j accomplish 
most in the world, are those who use their brains chiefly to 
plan, and who know how to choose fit instruments to carry 
out their plans, and do not spend their strength on pett^ 
details which might be done quite as well, or even better, 
by others. 

The admirers of the Khedive point justly to what he has 
done for Egypt. Since he came into power, the Suez Canal 
has been completed, and is now the highway for the com- 
merce of Europe with India ; great harbors have been made 
or improved at Alexandria, at Port Said, and at Suez ; canals 
for irrigation have been dug here and there, to carry over 
the country the fertilizing waters of the Nile ; and railroadfl 
have been cut across the Delta in every direction, and one 
is already advanced more than two hundred miles up the 
Nile. These are certainly great public works, which justly 
entitle the Khedive to be regarded as one of the most enlight- 
ened of modern rulers. 

But while recognizing all this, there are other things 
which I see here in Egypt which qualify my admiration. I 
cannot praise without reserve and many abatements. The 
Khedive has attempted too much, and in his restless ac- 
tivity has undertaken such vast enterprises that he has 
brought his country to the verge of bankruptcy, Egypt, 
like Turkey, is in a very bad way. She has not indeed yet 
gone to the length of repudiation. From this she has been 
saved for the moment by the sale of shares of the Suez Canal 
to England for four millions sterling. But this is only a tem- 
porary relief, it is not a permanent cure for what is a deep- 
seated disease. The financial troubles of Egypt are caused 
by the restless ambition (^f the Khedive to accomplish in a 
few years the work of a century ; and to carry out in an im- 
poverished country vast public works, which would task the 
resources of the richest country in Europe. The Khedive ha< 



KNEUGY NOT WELL REGULATED. 67 

the reputation abroad of being a great ruler, and he certainly! 
shows an energy that is extraordinary. But it is not always 
a well regulated energy. He does too much. He is a man of 
magnificent designs, and projects public works with the gran 
ieur of a Napoleon. This would be very well if his means 
ivGTQ at all equal to his ambition. But his designs are so 
v^ast that they would requii-e the capital of France or Great 
Britain, while Egypt is a very poor country. It has always 
of course the natural productiveness of the valley of the 
Nile, but beyond that it has nothing ; it has no accumulated 
wealth, no great capitalists, no large private fortunes, no 
rich middle class, from which to draw an imperial revenue. 
With all that can be wrung from the miserable fellahs, taxed 
to the utmost limit of endurance, still the expenses outrun 
enormously the income. 

It is true that Egypt has much more to show for her 
money than Turkey. If she has gone deeply in debt, and 
contracted heavy foreign loans, she can at lea8t point to 
great public works for the permanent good of Egypt ; although 
in the construction of some of these she ha^ anticipated, 
if not the wants of the country, at least its resources for 
many years to come. 

For example, at the First Cataract, I foun4 men at work 
upon a railroad that is designed to extend to Khartoum, 
the capital of Soudan, and the point of junct/on of the Blue 
and the White Nile ! In the latter part of itM course tc this 
point, it is to cross the desert ; as it must still farther, if 
carried eastward, as projected, to Massowah cq the Ked Seal 
These are gigantic projects, but about as n^'fcessary to th€» 
present commerce of Egypt as would be a raihvay to the very 
heart of Africa. 

But all the money has not gone in this way. The Khedire 
bas had the ambition to make of Egypt a grt-^t African Em- 
pire, by adding to it vast regions in the intf^vior. For thii 
he has sent repeated expeditions up the NilOj ii*d is in a con 



68 HIS SPECULATIONS. 

tinual conflict with his barbarous neighbors, and has at liur* 
got into a serious war with Abyssinia. 

But even this is not all. Not satisfied with managing the 
affairs of government, the Khedive, with that restless spirit 
which characterizes him, is deeply involved in all sorts oi 
private enterprises. He is a speculator on a gigantic scale, 
going into every sort of mercantile adventure. He is a great 
real estate operator. He owns whole squares in the new 
parts of Cairo and Alexandria, on which he is constantly 
building houses, besides buying houses built by others. H€ 
builds hotels and opera houses, and runs steamboats and rail- 
roads, like a royal Jim Fisk. The steamer on which we 
crossed the Mediterranean from Constantinople to Alexan- 
dria, belonged to the Khedive, and the railroad that brought 
us to Cairo, and the hotel in which we were lodged, and the 
steamer in which we went up the Nile. 

Nor is he limited in his enterprises to steamers and rail- 
roads. He is a great cotton and sugar planter. He owns a 
large part of the land in Egypt, on which he has any number 
of plantations. His immense sugar factories, on which he 
has expended millions of pounds, may be seen all along the 
valley of the Nile ; and he exports cotton by the shipload 
from the port of Alexandria. 

A man who is thus "up to his eyes" in speculation, who 
tries to do everything himself, must do many things badly, 
or at least imperfectly. He cannot possibly supervise every 
detail of administration, and his agents have not the stim* 
ulus of a personal interest to make the most of their oppor- 
tunity. I asked very often, when up the Nile, if these 
great sugar factories which 1 saw paid, and was uniformly 
answered " No ; " but that they would pay in private hands, 
if managed by those who had a personal stake in saving 
every needless expense, and increasing every possible source 
of income. But the Khedive is cheated on every side, and 
in a hundred ways. And even if there were not actut] 



EGYPT NEARLY BANKRUPT. 69 

fraud, the system is one which necessarily involves immense 
waste and loss. Here in Cairo I find it the universal opin- 
ion that almost all the Khedive's speculations have been gi- 
gantic failures, and that they are at the bottom of the trouble 
which now threatens the country. 

Such is the present financial condition of the Khedive and 
of Egypt. I couple the two together ; although an attempt 
is made to distinguish them, and we hear that although 
Egypt is nearly bankrupt, yet that the Khedive is personally 
" the richest man in the world ! " But the accounts are so 
mixed that it is very difficult to separate them. There is no 
doubt that the Khedive has immense possessions in his hands ; 
but he is, at the same time, to use a commercial phrase, enor 
mously " extended ; " he is loaded with debt, and has to borrow 
money at ruinous rates ; and if his estate were suddenly 
wound up, and a " receiver " appointed to administer upon 
it, it is extremely doubtful what would be the " assets " left. 

Such an administrator has appeared. Mr. Cave has just 
come out from England, to try and straighten out the Khe- 
dive's affairs. But he has a great task before him. Wise 
heads here doubt whether his mission will come to anything, 
whether indeed he will be allowed to get at the " bottom facts," 
or to make anything more than a superficial examination, as 
the basis of a " whitewashing report " which may bolster up 
Egyptian credit in Paris and London. 

But if he does come to know '' the truth and the whole 
truth," then I predict that he will either abandon the case in 
despair, or he will have to recommend to the Khedive, as the 
only salvation for him, a more sweeping and radical reform 
than the latter has yet dreamed of. It requires some degree 
of moral courage to talk to a sovereign as to a private indi' 
ridual ; to speak to him as if he were a prodigal son who had 
wasted his substance in riotous living ; to tell him to moder- 
ate his desires, and restrain his ambition, and to live a quiet 
and sober life; and to "livo within his means." But thu 



70 THE MISSION OF ME. CAVE. 

he must do, or it is easy to see where this brilliant financier 
ing will end. 

If Mr. Cave can persuade the Khedive to restrain his ex 
' travagance ; to stop building palaces (he has now more than 
he can possibly use) ; and to give up, once for all, as the fol- 
lies of his youth, his grand schemes of annexing the whole 
interior of Africa, as he has already annexed Nubia and 
Soudan ; and to " back out " as gracefully as he can (although 
it is a very awkward business), of his war with Abyssinia j 
and then to follow up the good course he has begun with hia 
Suez Canal shares, by selling all his stock in every commer- 
cial company (for one man must not ti'y to absorb all the in- 
dustry of a kingdom) ; if he can persuade him to sell all the 
railways in Egypt ; and to sell every steamship on the Medi- 
terranean, except such as may be needed for the use of the 
government ; and every boat on the Nile except a yacht or 
two for his private pleasure ; to sell all his hotels and thea- 
tres ; his sugar factories and cotton plantations ; and aban- 
doning all his private speculations, to be content with being 
simply the ruler of Egypt, and attending to the affairs of 
government, which are quite enough to occupy the thoughts 
of " a mind capacious of such things ; " then he may succeed 
in righting up the ship. Otherwise I fear the Khedive will 
follow the fate of his master the Sultan. 

But impending bankruptcy is not the worst feature in 
Egypt. There is something more rotten in the State than 
bad financial management. It is the want of justice estab- 
lished by law, which shall protect the rights of the people. 
At present, liberty there is none ; the government is an 
absolute despotism, as much as it was three thousand years 
ago. The system under which the Israelites groaned, and 
for which God brought the plagues upon Egypt, is in full 
force to-day. The Khedive has obtained great credit abroad 
by the expeditions of Sir Siimuel Baker and others up the 
Nile, which were said to be designed to break up the slave 



THE SYSTEM OF FORCED LABOR. 71 

trade. But what signifies destroying slavery in the interior 
of Africa, when a system still more intolerable exists in 
Egypt itself ? It is not called slavery; it is simply /brcea 
labor, which, being interpreted, means that when the Khedive 
wants ten thousand men to dig a canal or build a railroad, 
he sends into the requisite number of villages, and " con- 
scripts " them en masse, just as he conscripts his soldiers 
(taking them away from their little farms, perhaps, at the 
very moment when their labor is most needed), and sets 
them to work for himself, under taskmasters, driving them 
to work under the goad of the lash, or, if need be, at the 
point of the bayonet. For this labor, thus cruelly exacted, 
they receive absolutely nothing — neither pay nor food. A 
man who has constructed some of the greatest works of 
Modern Egypt, said to me, as we were riding over the Delta, 
" I built this railroad. I had under me twenty thousand 
men — all forced labor. In return for their labor, I gave 
tliem — water ! " '' But surely you paid them wages ? " " No." 
"But at least you gave them food?" "No." "But how 
did they live?" ** The women worked on the land, and 
brought them bread and rice." " But suppose they failed 
to bring food, what became of the workmen ? " " They 
starved." And not only were they forced to work without 
pay and without food, but were often required to furnish 
their own tools. Surely this is making bricks without straw, 
as much as the Israelites did. Such a system of labor, how- 
ever grand the public works it may construct, can hardly 
excite the admiration of a lover of free institutions. 

On all who escape this forced labor, the taxation is fearful, 
The hand of the government is as heavy upon them as in the 
ancient days. To one who was telling me of this — and 
no man knows Egypt better — I said, " Why, the govern- 
ment takes half of all that the country yields." '' Half? " 
he answered, "7^ takes ally To the miserable fellahs whc 
kiJ] the soil it leaves only their mud hovels, the rags thai 



72 THE ADMINISTRATION OF JTJSTIOB 

scarcely hide their nakedness, and the few herbs and fmitt 
that but just keep soul and body together. Every acre of 
ground in Egypt is taxed, and every palm tree in the valley 
of the Nile. What would our American farmers say to » 
tax of twelve dollars an acre on their land, and of from 
twenty-five to fifty cents on every apple tree in their or- 
chards ? Yet this enormous burden falls, not on the rich 
farmers of New England, or New York, or Ohio, but on the 
miserable fellahs of Egypt, who are far more destitute than 
the negroes of the South, Yet in the midst of all this 
poverty and wretchedness, in these miserable Arab villages 
the tax gatherer appears regularly, and the tax, though it 
be the price of blood, is remorselessly exacted. If anybody 
refuses, or is unable to pay, no words are wasted on him, he 
is immediately bastinadoed till his cries avail — not with the 
officers of the law, who know no mercy, but with his neigh- 
bors, who yielding up their last penny, compel the executioner 
to let go his hold. 

Such is the Egyptian Government as it presses on the peo- 
ple. While its hand is so heavy in ruinous taxations, the 
administration of justice is pretty much as it was in the time 
of the Pharaohs. It has been in the hands of a set of native 
officials, who sometimes executed a rude kind of justice on 
the old principle of strict retaliation, " an eye for an eye, and 
a tooth for a tooth," but commonly paid no regard to th*^ 
merits of a case, but decided it entirely by other considera- 
tions. In matters where the Government was concerned, no 
private individual had any chance whatever. The Khedive 
was the source of all authority and power, a central divimty^ 
of whom every official in the country was an emanatior^ be- 
fore whom no law or ju.stice could stand. In other ma ttera 
judges decided according to their own pleasure — their lik« 
or dislike of one or the other of the parties — or more often 
according to their interest, for they were notoriously open to 
bribes Thus in the whole land of Egypt justice there xvMt 



THE CONSULAB COURTS. 73 

none. In every Arali village the sheik was a petty tyrani^ 
who could bastinado the miserable fellahs at his will. 

This rough kind of government answered its purpose — or 
at least there was no one who dared to question it — so long 
as they had only their own people to rule over. But when 
foreigners came to settle in Egypt, they were not willing to be 
subjected to this Oriental justice. Hence arose a system of 
Consular Courts, by which every commercial question between 
a foreigner and a native was decided by a mixed tribunal, 
composed of the Consul of the country and a native judge. 
This seemed very fair, but in fact ifc only made confusion worse 
confounded. For naturally the Consul sided with his own 
countryman (if he did not, he would be considered almost a 
traitor), his foreign prejudices came into play ; and so what 
was purely a question of law, became a political question. 
It was not merely a litigation about property between A 
and B, but a matter of diplomatic skill between France (or 
any other foreign power) and Egypt ; and as France was the 
stronger, she was the more likely to succeed. Hence the 
foreigner had great advantages over the native in these Con- 
sular Courts, and if in addition the native judge was open 
to a bribe, and the foreigner was willing to give it, the native 
suitor, however wronged, was completely at his mercy. 

Such was the state of things until quite recently. But 
here at least there has been a reform in the introduction of 
a new judicial system, which is the greatest step forward 
that has been taken within half a century. 

The man who was the first to see what was the radical 
vice of the country, the effectual hindrance to its prosperity, 
was Nubar Pasha. He had the sagacity to see that the 
first want of Egypt was not more railroads and steamboats, 
but simple justice — the protection of law. How clearly he 
saw the evil, was indicated by a remark which I once heard 
him make. He said : " The idea of justice does not exisi 
in the Oriental mind. We have governors and judges, wb? 
4 



T4 JUSTICE THE GREAT WANT OF EGYPT. 

sit to hear causes, and who decide them after the C>rieiit& 
fashion — that is, they will decide in favor of a friend againsl 
an enemy, or more commonly in favor of the man who can 
pay the largest bribe ; but to sit patiently and listen to evi- 
dence, and then decide according to abstract justice, is some- 
thing not only foreign to their customs, but of which they 
have absolutely no idea — they cannot conceive of it." He 
saw that a feeling of insecurity was at the bottom of the 
want of confidence at home and abroad ; and that to " estab- 
lish justice " was the first thing both to encourage native 
industry, and to invite the capital of France and England to 
expend itself in the valley of the Nile. To accomplish this 
has been his single aim for many years. He has set himself 
to do away with the old Oriental system complicated by the 
Consular Courts, and to introduce the simple administration; 
of justice, by which there should be, in all mixed transactions, 
one law for natives and foreigners, for the rich and the poor, 
for the powerful and the weak. 

To inaugurate such a policy, which was a virtual revolu- 
tion, the initiative must be taken by Egypt. But how could 
the Khedive propose a change which was a virtual surrender 
of his own absolute power? He could no longer be abso- 
lute within the courts : and to give up this no Oriental despot 
would consent, for it was parting with the dearest token of 
his power over the lives and fortunes of his subjects. But 
the Khedive was made to see, that, if he surrendered some- 
thins:, he ofained much more ; that it was an immense advan- 
tage to himself and his country to be brought within the 
pale of European civilization ; and that this could not be 
until it was placed under the protection of European law. 

But Egypt was not the only power to be consulted. The 
change could only be made by treaty with other countries^ 
and Egypt was not an independent State, and had no right 
to enter into negotiations with foreign powers wi^liout th( 
consent of the Porte To obtain this involved long aii<? 



THE NEW J[JDICIAL SYSTEM, 75 

tedious delays at Constantinople. And last of all, the 
foreign States themselves had to be persuaded into it, for oi 
course the change involved the surrender of their consular 
jurisdiction; and all were jealous lest it should be giving up 
the rights of their citizens. To persuade them to the con- 
trary was a slow business. Each government considered 
how it would affect its own subjects. France especially, 
which had had great advantages under the old Consular 
Courts, vras the last to give its consent to the new system. 
It was only a few days before the New Year, at which it 
was to be inaugurated, that the National Assembly, after a 
debate lasting nearly a week, finally adopted the measure by 
a majority of three to one, and thus the great j udicial re- 
form, on which the wisest statesman of Egypt had so long 
fixed his heart, was consummated. 

The change, in a word, is this. The civil jurisdiction of the 
old Consular Courts, in questions between foreigners and 
natives, is abolished, and instead are constituted three mixed 
courts — one at Cairo, one at Alexandria, and one at Ismailia 
— each composed of seven judges, of whom four are nomina- 
ted by foreign powers, France, England, Germany, Austria, 
K-ussia, Italy, and the United States. In the selection of 
judges, as there are three benches to be filled, several are 
taken from the smaller states of Europe. There is also a 
higher Court of Appeal constituted in the same way. 

The judges to fill these important positions have already 
been named by the different governments, and so far as the 
personnel of the new courts is concerned, leave nothing to 
be desired. They are all men of reputation in their own 
countries, as having the requisite legal knowledge and ability, 
and as men of character, who will administer the law in the 
interest of justice, and that alone. The United States is 
represen''ed by Judge Barringer at Alexandria, and Judge 
Batcheller at Cairo — both of whom will render excellent 
service to Egypt, and do honor to their own country. 



76 THE NEW JUDICIAL SYSTEM. 

The law which these courts are to administer, is net Moa 
lem law (until now the supreme law of Egypt was the 
Koran, as it still is in Turkey), nor any kind of Oriental 
law — but European law. Guided by the same intelligence 
which framed the new judicial system, Egypt has adopted 
the Code Napoleon. The French language will be used in 
the courts for the European judges, and the Arabic for the 
native. 

In administering this law, these courts are supreme ; they 
cannot be touched by the Government, or their decisions 
annulled ; for they are constituted hy treaty, and any attempt 
to interfere with them would at once be resented by all the 
foreign powers as a violation of a solemn compact, and bring 
down upon Egypt the protest and indignation of the wliole 
civilized world. 

The change involved in the introduction of such a system 
can hardly be realized by Europeans or Americans. It is 
the first attempt to inaugurate a reign of law in Egypt, or 
perhaps in any Oriental country. It is a breakwater equally 
against the despotism of the central power, and the meddle- 
someness of foreign governments, acting through the Con- 
sular Courts. For the first time the Khedive is himself put 
under law, and has some check to his power over the lives 
and property of his subjects. Indeed we may say that it is 
the first time in the history of Egypt that there has been 
one law for ruler and people — for the Khedive and the 
fellah, for the native-born and for the stranger within their 
gates. 

The completion of such a system, after so much labor, has 
naturally been regarded with great satisfaction by those who 
have been working for it, and its inauguraticn on the first 
of the year was an occasion of congratulation. On that day 
the new judges were inducted into office, and after taking 
their official oaths they were all entertained at the house o\ 
Judge Batcheller, where was present also Mr. Wa«»hburne 



THE NEW JUDIOIAl. SYSTEM. 71 

our Minister at Paris, and where speeches were made in 
English, French, German, and Arabic, and the warmest 
wishes expressed both by the foreign and native judges, that 
a system devised with so much care for the good of Egypt, 
might be completely successful. Of course it will take time 
for the people to get accustomed to the new state of things. 
They are so unused to any form of justice that at first they 
hardly know what it means, and will be suspicious of it, as 
if it were some new device of oppression. They have to be 
educated to justice, as to everything else. By and bye they 
will get some new ideas into their heads, and we may see a 
real administration of justice in the valley of the Nile. That 
it may realize the hopes of the great man by whom it haa 
been devised, and " establish justice " in a country in which 
justice has been hitherto unknown, will be the wish of every 
American. 

This new judicial system is the one bright spot in the state 
of Egypt, where there is so much that is dark. It is the one 
step of real progress to be set over against all the waste and 
extravagance, the oppression and tyranny. Aside from that 
I cannot indulge in any rose-colored views. I cannot go into 
ecstasies of admiration over a government which has had 
absolute control of the country for so many years, and has 
brought it to the verge of ruin. 

And yet these failures and disasters, great as they are, do 
not abate my interest in Egypt, nor in that remarkable man 
who has at present its destinies in his hands. I would not ask 
too much, nor set up an unreasonable standard. I am not so 
foolish as to suppose that Egypt can be a constitutional mon- 
archy like England ; or a republic like America. This would 
be carrying republicanism to absurdity. I am not such ao 
enthusiast for republican institutions, as to believe that they 
are the best for all peoples, whatever their degree of intelli- 
gence. They would be unsuited to Egypt. The people ara 
aot fit for them. They are not only very poor, but verj 



78 THE BEST GOVERNMENT AN ENLIGHTENED DESPOTISM. 

Ignorant. There is no middle class in Egypt in which to fintE 
the materials of free institutions. Kepublican as I am, 1 
believe that the best possible government for Egypt is an en- 
lightened despotism / and my complaint against the govern 
ment of the Khedive is, not that he concentrates all powei 
in himself, but that he does not use it wisely — that his gov- 
ernment unites, with many features of a ci\'ilized state, some 
of the very worst features of Oriental tyranny. 

But with all that is dark in the present state of this coun- 
try, and sad in the condition of its people, I believe that 
Egypt has a great future before it; that it is to rise to a new 
'dfe, and become a prosperous State of the modern world. 
The Nile valley has a great part yet to play in the future 
civilization of Africa, as an avenue of access to the in- 
terior — to those central highlands where are the Great 
Lakes, which are the long-sought sources of the Nile ; and 
from which travellers and explorers, merchants and mission- 
aries, may descend on the one hand to the Niger, and to 
the Western Coast ; or, on the other, to those vast regions 
which own the rule of the Sultan of Zanzibar. I watch 
with interest every Expedition up the Nile, if so be it is an 
advance, not of conquest, but of peaceful commerce and civ- 
ilization. 

Perhaps the Khedive will rise to the height of the emer- 
gency, and bring his country out of all its difficulties, and set 
it on a new career of prosperity. He has great qualities, 
great capacity and marvellous energy. Has he also the gift 
of political wisdom ? 

Never had a ruler such an opportunity. He has a part to 
act — ^if he knows how to act it well — which will give him 
a name in history greater than any of the old kings of 
Egypt, since to him it is given to reconstruct a kingdom, and 
to lead the way for the regeneration of a continent. If only 
he can see that his true inteiest lies, not in war, but in 
peacCj not in conquering all the tribes of Africa, and annex 



TfiE KITEDIVE. 79 

ing their territory, but in developing the resouroes of his own 
country, aad in peaceful commerce with his less civilized 
neighbors, he will place himself at the head of a continent, 
and by the powerful infl^uence of his example, aad of his own 
prosperous State, become not only the Restorer of Egypt, b?i< 
fcLe Civilize r of Afric« 



CHAPTER Vll. 

KIDNIGHT IN THE HEART OF THE GREAT PYRAMID. 

Our last night in Cairo we spent in riding out tc 
Ghiaeh by moonlight, and exploring the interior of the 
Great Pyramid. We had already been there by day, and 
climbed to the top, but did not then go inside. There is 
no access but by a single narrow passage, four feet wide 
and high, which slopes at a descending angle, so that one 
must stoop very low while he slides down an inclined plane, 
as if he were descending into a mine by a very small shaft. 
There is not much pleasure in crouching and creeping along 
such a passage, with a crowd of Arab guides before and be- 
hind, lighting the darkness with their torches, and making 
the rocky cavern hideous with their yells. These creatures 
fasten on the traveller, pulling and pushing, smoking in his 
face, and raising such a dust that he cannot see, and is almost 
choked, and keeping up such a noise that he cannot hear, and 
can hardly think. One likes a little quiet and silence, a 
little chance for meditation, when he penetrates the sepulchre 
of kings, where a Pharaoh was laid down to rest four thousand 
years ago. So I left these interior researches, on our first 
visit to the Pyramid, to the younger members of our party, 
and contented myself with clambering up its sides, and look- 
ing off upon the desert and the valley of the Nile, with Cairo 
in the distance. 

But on our trip up the Nile, I read the work Df Piazzi 
Smyth, the Astronomer Royal of Scotland, " Our Inheritance 
in the Great Pyramid," and had my curiosity excited to aee 



MIDNIGHT IN THE GREAT PYRAMID. 81 

again a structure which a^ as not only the oldest and greatest 
in the world, but in which he thought to have discovered 
the proofs of a divine revelation. Dr. Grant of Cairo, who 
had made a study of the subject, and had spent many nights 
in the heart of the Pyramid, taking accurate measurements, 
kindly offered to accompany us; and so we made up a partj 
of those who had come down the Nile — an Episcopal clergy 
man from New England, a Colonel from the United States 
Army, a lady from Cambridge, Mass., and a German lady 
and her daughter who had been with us for more than two 
months, and my niece and myself. It was to be our last 
excursion together, as we were to part on the morrow, and 
should probably never all meet again. 

At half-past eight o'clock we drove away from the Ez- 
bekieh square in Cairo. It was one of those lovely nights 
found only in Egypt. The moon, approaching the full, cast 
a soft light on everything — on the Nile, as we crossed the 
long iron bridge, and on the palms, w^Txng gently in the 
night wind. We rode along under the a. venue of trees plant- 
ed by old Mehemet Ali, keeping up an animated conver- 
sation, and getting a great deal of information about Egypt. 
It was two hours before we reached the Pyramid. Of course 
the Arabs, who had seen the carriages approaching along the 
road, and who like vultures, diecern their prey from a great 
distance, were soon around us, offering their services. But 
Dr. Grant, whose experience had ta,ught him whom to seek, 
sent for the head man, whom he knew, who had accompanied 
him in his explorations, and bade him seek out a sufficient 
number of trusty guides for our party, and keep off the rest. 

While the sheik was seeking for his retainers, we strolled 
away to the Sphinx, which looked more strange and weird 
than ever in the moonlight. How many centuries has he 
sat there, crouching on the desert, and looking towards the 
rising sun. The body is that of a recumbent lion. The 
back only is seen, as the giant limbs, which are stretched out 
4* 



82 MIDNIGHT IN THE GREAT PYRAMID. 

sixty feet in front, are wholly covered by the sand. But th« 
mighty head still lifts its unchanged brow above the waste, 
looking towards the East, to see the sun rise, as it has every 
morning for four thousand years. 

On our return to the Pyramid, Dr. Grant pointed out the, 
'^ corner sockets " of the original structure, showing how 
much larger it was when first built, and as it stood in the 
time of the Pharaohs. It is well known that it has been mu- 
tilated by the successive rulers of Egypt, who have stripped 
off its outer layers of granite to build palaces and mosques 
in Cairo. This process of spoliation, continued for centuries, 
has reduced the size of the Pyramid two acres, so that now 
it covers but eleven acres of ground, whereas originally it 
covered thirteen. Outside of all this was a pavement of 
granite, extending forty feet from the base, which surround- 
ed the whole. 

By the time we had returned, the sheik was on hand with 
his swarthy guides around him, and we prepared to enter the 
Pyramid. It was not intended to be entered. If it had been 
so designed — as it is the largest building in the world — it 
would have had a lofty gateway in keeping with its enor- 
mous proportions, like the temples of Upper Egypt. But it 
is not a temple, nor a place for assembly or for worship, nor 
even a lofty, vaulted place of burial, like the tombs of tlie 
Medici in Florence, or other royal mausoleums. Except thu 
King's and Queen's chambers (which are called chambers by 
courtesy, not being large enough for ordinary bedrooms in a 
royal palace, but more like a hermit's rocky cell), the whole 
Pyramid is one mass of stone, as solid as the cliff of El Capi- 
tan in the Yo Semite valley. The only entrance is by the 
narrow passage already described ; and even this was walled 
up so as to be concealed. If it were intended for a tomb, 
whoever built it sealed it up, that its secret might remain 
forever inviolate ; and that the dead might slumber undis- 
turbed until the Judgment day. It was only by accident 



MIDNIGHT m THE GREAT PYKAMII>. 83 

that an entrance was discovered. About a thousand yeara 
ago a Mohammedan ruler, conceiving the idea that the 
Pyramid had been built as a storehouse for the treasures of 
the kings of Egypt, undertook to break into it, and worked 
for months to pierce the granite sides, but was about to give 
it up in despair, when the accidental falling of a stone led to 
the discovery of the passage by which one now gains access 
to the interior. 

In getting into the Pyramid one must stoop to conquer. 
But this stooping is nothing to the bodily prostrations he has 
to undergo to get into some passages of the temples and un- 
derground tombs. Often one has not only to crouch, but to 
crawl. Near the Pyramid are some tombs, the mouths of 
which are so choked up with sand that one has actually to 
forego all use of hands and knees. I threw myself in despair 
on the ground, and told the guides to drag me in by the 
heels. As one lies prone on the earth, he cannot help feeling 
that this horizontal posture is rather ridiculous for one who 
is in the pursuit of knowledge. I could not but think to 
what a low estate I had fallen. Sometimes one feels indeed, 
as he is thus compelled to " lick the dust," as if the curse of 
the serpent were pronounced upon him, " On thy belly shalt 
thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life." 

We had trusted to the man in authority to protect us 
from the horde of Arabs; but nothing could keep back the 
irrepressible camp-followers, who flocked after us, and when 
we got into the King's chamber, we found we had twenty- 
four ! With such a bodyguard, each carrying a lighted 
candle, we took up our forward march, or rather our forward 
stocp^ for no man can stand upright in this low passage. 
Thus bending one after another, like a flock of sheep, we 
vanished from the moonlight. Dr. Grant led the way, and, 
full of the wonders of the construction of the Pyramid, he 
called to me, as he disappeared down its throat, to ' jok bach 
and see how that long tube — longer an 1 larger thai any tele 



84 THE GRAND GALLERY. 

Bcope that ever was made — pointed towards the North Stai 
But stars and moon were soon eclipsed, and we were lost in 
the darkness of this labyrinth. The descent is tasy, indeed 
it is too easy, for the sides of the passage are of polished 
limestone, smootk as glass, and the floor affords but a slight 
hold for the feet, so that as we bent forward, we found it. 
difficult to keep our balance, and might have fallen from top 
to bottom if we had not had the strong arms of our guides to 
hold us up. With such a pair of crutches to lean upon, we 
slid down the smooth worn pavement till we came to a huge 
boulder, a granite portcullis, which blocked our way, around 
which a passage had been cut. Creeping around this, pulled 
and hauled by the Arabs, who lifted us over the dangerous 
places, we were shouldered on to another point of rock, and 
now began our ascent along a passage as slippery as that be- 
fore. Here again we should have made poor progress alone, 
with our boots which slipped at every moment on the smooth 
stones, but for the Arabs, whose bare feet gave them a better 
hold, and who held us fast. 

And now we are on a level and move along a very low 
passage, crouching almost on our hands and knees, till we 
raise our heads and stand in the Queen's Chamber — so called 
for no reason that we know but that it is smaller than the 
King's. 

Returning from this, we find ourselves at the foot of the 
Grand Gallery, or, as it might be called. Grand Staircase 
(as in its lofty proportions it is not unlike one of the great 
staircases in the old palaces of Genoa and Venice), which 
ascends into the heart of the Pyramid. This is a magnifi- 
cent hall, 157 feet long, 28 feet high, and 7 feet wide. But 
the ascent as before is over smooth and polished limestone, tc 
climb which is like climbing a cone of ice. We could not 
have got on at all but for the nimble Arabs, whose bare feet 
enabled them to cling to the slippery stone like cats, and 
who, grasping us in their naked arras, dragged us forward b^ 



THE king's CHAMBEK. 8^ 

main force. The ladies shrank from this kind of assis^iincej 
as they were sometimes almost embraced by these swarth^^ 
creatures. But there was no help for it. This kind of 
bodily exercise, passive and active, soon brought on an ex- 
cessive heat. We were almost stifled. Our faces grew 
re i ; I tore off my cravat to keep from choking. Still, like 
a true American, I was willing to endure anything if only 1 
got ahead, and felt rewarded when we reached the top of thf- 
Grand Gallery, and instead of looking up^ looked down. 

From this height we creep along another passage till we 
reach the object of our climbing, in the lofty apartment 
called the King's Chamber. This is the heart of the Great 
Pyramid — the central point for which apparently it was 
built, and where, if anywhere, its secret is to be found. At 
one end lies the sarcophagus (if such it was ; if the Pyra- 
mid was designed to be a tomb) in which the great Cheops 
was buried. It is now tenantless, except by such fancies as 
travellers choose to fill it withal. I know not what sudden 
freak of fancy took me just then, perhaps I thought, How 
would it seem to be a king even in his tomb ? and instantly 
I threw myself down at full length within the sarcophagus, 
and lay extended, head thrown back, and hands folded on 
my breast, lying still, as great Cheops may have lain, when 
they laid him in his royal house of death. It was a soft bed 
of dust, which, as I sank in it, left upon my whole outward 
man a marked impression. It seemed very like ordinary 
dust, settled from the clouds raised by the Arabs in theii 
daily entrances to show the chamber to visitors. But it was 
much more poetical to suppose that it was the mouldering 
dust of Cheops himself, in which case even the mass that 
olung to my hair might be considered as an anointing from 
the historic past. From this I was able to relieve myself, 
after I reached home that night, by a plentiful application 
of soap and water ; but alas, my gray travelling suit bore 
^h& scars of battle, the " dust of conflict," much longer, and 



86 THE king's CHAMBEK. 

it was not till we left Suez that a waiter of i^ ship took 
the garment in hand, and by a vigorous beatitrg exor.ised 
the stains of Egypt, so that Pharaoh and his host — or kia 
dust — were literally cast into the Ked Sea. 

And now we were all in the King's Chamber, our part-y 
of eight, with three times the number of Arabs. The lattei 
were at first quite noisy, after their usual fashion, but Dr 
Grant, who speaks Arabic, hushed them with a peremptorj/ 
command, and they instantly subsided, and crouched down 
by the wall, and sat silent, watching our movements. One 
of the party had brought with him some magnesium wire, 
which he now lighted, and which threw a strong glare on 
the sides and on the ceiling of the room, which, whether or 
not intended for the sepulchre of kings, is of massive solid- 
ity — faced round with red granite, and crossed above with 
enormous blocks of the same rich dark stone. With his 
subject thus illuminated. Dr. Grant pointed out with great 
clearness those features of the King's Chamber which have 
given it a scientific interest. The sarcophagus, which is an 
oblong chest of red granite, in his opinion, as in that of 
Piazzi Smyth, is not a sarcophagus at all ; indeed it looks 
quite as much like a huge bath-tub as a place of burial for one 
of the Pharaohs. He called my attention to the fact that it 
could not have been introduced into the Pyramid by any of 
the known passages. It must, therefore, have been built in 
it. It is also a singular fact that it has no cover, as a sarco- 
phagus always has. No mummy was ever found in it so 
far as we have any historic record. Piazzi Smyth, in his 
book, which is full of curious scientific lore, argues that it 
was not intended for a tomb, but for a fixed standard of 
measures, such as was given to Moses by Divine command. 
It is certainly a remarkable coincidence, if nothing more, 
that it is of the exact size of the Ark of the Covenanii 
But without giving too much importance to real or sup- 
posed analogies and correspondences, we must acknowledge 



TnE king's chamber. 8^ 

that there are many points in the King'r Chamber which 
make it a subject of curious study and of scientific interest j 
and which seera to show that it was constructed with refer- 
ence to certain mathematical proportions, and had a design 
beyond that of being a mere place of burial. 

After we had had this scientific discussion, we prepared 
for a discussion of a difierent kind — that of the lunch which 
we had brought with us. A night's ride sharpens the appe 
bite. As the only place where we could sit was the sarco- 
phagus itself, we took our places in it, sitting upon its granite 
sides. An Arab who knew what we should want, had 
brought a pitcher of water, which, as the heat was oppres- 
sive, was most grateful to our lips, and not less acceptable to 
remove the dust from our eyes and hands. Thus refreshed, 
we relished our oranges and cakes, and the tiny cups of 
Turkish cofi'ee. 

To add to the weirdness of the scene, the Arabs asked if 
we would like to see them perform one of their native dances : 
Having our assent, they formed in a circle, and began mov- 
ing their bodies back and forth, keeping time with a strange 
chant, which was not very musical in sound, as the dance 
was not graceful in motion. It was quickly over, when, of 
course, the hat was passed instantly for a contribution. 

The Colonel proposed the health of Cheops ! Poor old 
Cheops ! What would he have said to see such a party dis- 
turbing the place of his rest at such an hour as this ? J 
looked at my watch ; it was midnight — an hour when tho 
dead are thought to stir uneasily in their graves. Might he 
not have risen in wrath out of his sarcophagus to see these 
frivolous moderns thus making merry in the place of his 
sepulture ? But this miduight feast was not altogether gay, 
for some of us thought how we should be " far awa,y on 
the morrow," For weeks and months we had been travel 
ling together, but this excursion was to be our last. We 
were taking our parting feast — a fact which gave it a touot 



88 LEAVING THE PYRAMID. 

of sadness, as the place and the hour gave it a peculiai 

interest. 

And now we prepared to descend. T lingered in the 
chamber to the last, waiting till all had gone — till even the 
.ast attendant had crawled ont and was heard shouting afar 
off — that I might for a moment, at least, be alone in the 
silence and the darkness in the heart of the Pyramid ; and 
then, crouching as before, followed slowly the lights that 
were becoming dimmer and dimmer along the low and narrow 
passage. Arrived at the top of the Grand Gallery, I waited 
with a couple of Arabs till all our party descended, and then 
lighting a magnesium wire, threw a sudden and brilliani 
light over the lofty walls. 

It was one o'clock when we emerged from our tomb to the 
air and the moonlight, and found our carriages waiting for 
QS. The moon was setting in the West as we rode back un- 
der the long avenue of trees, and across the sacred Nile. It 
was three o'clock when we reached our hotel, and bade each 
other good-night and good-bye. Early in the morning two 
of us were to leave for India on our way around the world, 
and others were to turn their faces towards the Holy Land 
and Italy. But however scattered over Europe and America, 
none of us will ever forget our Midnight in the Heart of the 
Great Pyramid. 

In recalling this memory of Egypt, my object is not 
merely to furnish a poetical and romantic description, but to 
invite the attention of the most sober readers to what may 
well be a study and an instruction. This Pyramid was the 
greatest of the Seven Wonders of the World in the time of 
th e Greeks, and it is the only one now standing on the earth. 
May it not be that it contains some wisdom of the ancients that 
is worthy the attention of the boastful moderns ; some secret 
and sacred lore which the science of the present day may 
well study to reveal ? It may be (as Piazzi Smyth argues 
In his learned book) that we who are now upon the earth 



EEMAEKABLE FEATXJBES. 89 

have " an iulieritance in the Great Pyramid ; " that it waa 
built not merely to swell the pride of the Pharaohs, and to 
be the wonder of the Egyptians ; but for our instruction, on 
whom the ends of the world are come. Without giving our 
adhesion in advance to any theory, there are certain facts, 
clearly apparent, which give to this structure more than a 
monumental interest. For thousands of years it had been 
supposed to have been built for a royal tomb — for that and 
that only. So perhaps it was — and perhaps not. At any 
rate a very slight observation will show that it was built also 
for other purposes. For example : 

Observe its geographical position. It stands at the apex 
of the Delta of the Nile, and Piazzi Smyth claims, in the 
centre of the habitable globe ! He has a map in which 
its point is fixed in Africa, yet between Europe and Asia, 
and which shows that it stands in the exact centre of the 
land surface of the whole world. This, if it be an accident, 
is certainly a singular one. 

Then it is exactly on the thirtieth parallel of latitude, 
and it stands four-square, its four sides facing exactly the 
four points of compass — North, South, East, and West, 
Now the chances are a million to one that this could not 
occur by accident. There is no need to argue such a matter. 
It was certainly done by design, and shows that the old 
Egyptians knew how to draw a meridian line, and to take 
the points of compass, as accurately as the astronomers of the 
present day. 

Equally evident is it that they were able to measure the 
solar year as exactly as modern astronomers. Taking the 
sacred cubit as the unit of measure there are in each side of 
the Pyramid just 365^ cubits, which gives not only the 
aumber of days in the year, but the six hours over ! 

That it was built for astronomical purposes, seems prob- 
able from its very structure. Professor Proctor argues that 
It was erected for purposes of astrology ! Never was there 



90 ITS ASTEJNOMICAL DESIGN. 

such an observatory in the world. Its pinnacle is the lofbi 
est ever placed in the air by human hands. It seems as if 
the Pyramid were built like the tower of Babel, that its toji 
might ** touch heaven." From that great height one haa 
almost a perfect horizon, looking off upon the level valley of 
the Nile. It is said that it could not have been ascended 
because its sides were covered with polished stone. But 
may there not have been a secret passage to the top ? It is 
hard to believe that such an elevation was not made use oi 
by a people so much given to the study of the stars as were 
the ancient Egyptians. In some way we would believe that 
the priests and astrologers of Egypt were able to climb to 
that point, where they might sit all night long looking at the 
constellations through that clear and cloudless sky ; watching 
Orion and the Pleiades, as they rose over the Mokattam hills 
on the other side of the Nile, and set behind the hills of the 
Libyan desert. 

There is another very curious fact in the Pyramid, thai 
the passage by which it is entered points directly to the 
North Star, and yet not to the North Star that now is, bu* to 
Alpha Draconis, which was the North Star four thousand 
years ago. This is one way in which the age of the Pyramid 
is determined, for it is found by the most exact calculations 
that 2170 years before Christ, a man placed at the bottom of 
that passage, as at the bottom of a well, and looking upward 
through that shaft, as if he were looking through the great 
telescope of Lord Posse, would fix his eye exactly on the 
North Star — the pole around which was revolving the whole 
celestial sphere. As is well known, this central point of the 
heavens changes in the lapse of ages, but that star will 
come around to the same point in 25,800 years more, when, 
if the Pyramid be still standing, the observers of that remote 
period can again look upward and see Alpha Draconis on hii 
throne, and mark how the stars *' return again " to their 
places in the "jverlasting revolutions of the heavens. 



MEASrREMENT OF TIME. 91 

As to tho measurement of time, all who have visited as 
fcronomical observatories know the extreme and almost infi 
nite pains taken to obtain an even temperature for clocks. 
The slightest increase of temperature may elongate the pen- 
dulum, and so affect the duration of a second, and this, 
though it be in a degree so infinitesimal as to be almost 
inappreciable, yet becomes important to the accuracy of com- 
putations, when a unit has to be multiplied by hundreds of 
millions, as it is in calculating the distances of the heavenly 
bodies. To obviate this difficulty, astronomical clocks are 
sometimes placed in apartments under ground, closed in with 
ihick walls (where even the door is rarely opened, but the 
observations are made through a glass window), so that it 
cannot be affected by the variations of temperature of the 
outer world. But here, in the heart of this mountain of 
stone, the temperature is preserved at an absolute equilibrium, 
so that there is no expansion by heat and no contraction by 
cold. WTiat are all the observatories of Greenwich, and Paris 
and Pulkowa, to such a rock-built citadel as the Great Pyra- 
mid ? 

But not only was the Pyramid designed to stand right in 
its position towards the earth and the heavenly bodies ; but 
also, and perhaps chiefly (so argues Prof. Smyth) was it de- 
signed for metrological (not meteorological) purposes — to 
furnish an exact standard of weights and measures. The unit 
of lineal measure used in the Pyramid he finds to correspond 
not to the English foot, nor to the French metre, but to the 
Hebrew sacred cubit. This is certainly a curious coincidence, 
l")ut may it not prove simply that the latter was derived from 
the forme' ? Moses was learned in all the wisdom of the 
Egyptians, and may have brought from the Valley of the 
Nile weights and measures, as well as customs and laws. 

But this cubit itself, wherever it came from, has some very 
remarkable correspondences. French and English mathema- 
ticians and astronomers have had great difficulty to fix upon 



92 MATHEMATICAL CALOIILATIONS. 

an exact standard of lineal measure. Their metliod has been 
to take some length which had an exact relation to one oi 
the unchangeable spaces or distances of the globe itself. 
Thus the English inch is one five hundred millionth part of 
the axis of the earth. But Prof. Smyth finds in the Great 
Pyramid a still better standard of measure. The cubit con- 
tains twenty-five of what he calls " Pyramid inches," and 
fifty of these are just equal to one ten-millionth part of the 
earth's axis of rotation ! He finds in the Pyramid a greater 
wonder still in a measure for determining the distance of the 
earth from the sun, which is the unit for calculating the dis^ 
tances of the heavenly bodies ! That which scientific expedi- 
tions have been sent into all parts of the earth within the 
last two years to determine by more accurate observations of 
the transit of Yenus, is more exactly told in the Great Pyra- 
mid erected four thousand years ago ! 

It is a very fascinating study to follow this learned profes- 
sor in his elaborate calculations. He seems to think the 
whole of the exact sciences contained in the Great Pyramid. 
The vacant chest of red granite in the King's Chamber, over 
which Egyptologists have puzzled so much, is to him as the 
very ark of the Lord. That which has been supposed to be 
a sarcophagus, with no other interest than as having once 
held a royal mummy, he holds not to be the tomb of Cheops, 
or of any of the kings of Egypt, but a sacred coffer intended 
to serve as a standard of weights and measures for all time to 
come. He thinks it accomplishes perfectly the arithmetical 
feat of squaring the circle ! — the height being to the circum- 
ference of the base, as the radius is to the circumference of & 
circle. 

But the Great Pyramid has, to Professor Smyth, more 
than a scientific — it has a religious interest. He is a Scotch- 
man, and not only a man of science, but one who believes, 
with all the energy of his Scotch nature, in a Divine revela- 
tion; and as might be suppos(!d, bo connects this monumem 



RELIGIOUS INTEKEbT. 93 

of scientific learnino: with One who is the source of all (vis- 
d )m and knowledge. However great may have been the 
wisdom of the Egyptians, he does not believe that they had 
a knowledge of geodesy and astronomy greater than the most 
learned scientific men of our day. He has another explana- 
tion, that the Great Pyramid was built by the guidance of 
Him who led the Israelites out of Egypt, and who, as he 
shone upon their path in the desert, now shines by this light- 
house and signal tower upon the blindness and ignorance of 
the world. He believes that the Pyramid was constructed 
by Divine inspiration just as much as the Jewish Tabernacle ; 
that as Moses was commanded to fashion everything accord- 
ing to the pattern showed to him in the Mount, so some an- 
cient King of Egypt, woi'king under Divine inspiration, 
builded better than he knew, and wrought into enduring 
stone, truths which he did not perhaps himself understand, 
but which were to be revealed in the last time, and to testify 
to a later generation the manifold wisdom of God. As to its 
age he places it somewhere between the time of Noah and 
the calling of Abraham. Dr. Grant even thinks it was built 
before the death of Noah ! But mankind could hardly have 
multiplied in the earth in the lifetime of even the oldest of 
the patriarchs, so as to be capable of building such monu- 
ments. The theory is that it was not built by an Egyptian 
architect. There is a tradition mentioned in Herodotus of a 
shepherd who came from a distant country, from the East, 
who had much to do with the building of the Pyramid, and 
was regarded as a heavenly visitant and director. Prof. 
Smyth thinks it probable, that this visitor was Melchisedek ! 
He even gives the Pyramid a prophetic character, and thinks 
that the different passages and chambers are designed to be 
symbolical of the diiferent economies through which God 
educates the rice. The entrance at first descends. That may 
represent the gradual decadence of mankind to the time of 
the Flood, or to the exodus of the Israelites. Then the pa* 



94 IS IT A REVELATION IN STONE? 

sage begins to ascend, but slowly and painfully, wliicb repr& 
sents tlie Jewish Dispensation, when men were struggling 
towards the light. After a hundred and twenty-seven feei 
of this stooping and creeping upward, there is a sudden en 
largement, and the low passage rises up into the Grand Gal- 
lery, just as the Mosaic economy, after groping through man;^ 
centuries, at last bursts into the full glory of the Christian 
Dispensation. 

Believing in its inspired character, he finds in every part 
of this wonderful structure signs and symbols. Taking it 
as an emblem of Christian truth, whete is the chief corner- 
stone ? Not at the base, but at the top — the apex ! At the 
bottom, there are four stones which are equal — no one of 
which is above another — the chief corner-stone therefore 
must be the capstone ! 

It will be perceived that this is a very original and very 
sweeping theory ; that it overturns all our ideas of the Great 
Pyramid ; that it not only turns Cheops out of it, but turns 
Science and Revelation together into it. We may well 
hesitate before accepting it in its full extent, and yet we 
must acknowledge our indebtedness to Prof. Smyth. He 
has certainly given a new interest to this hoary monument 
of the past. Scientific men who reject his theory are still 
4eeply interested in the facts which he brings to light, which 
inQj recognize as very extraordinary, and which show a 
degree of scientific knowledge which not only they did not 
believe to exist among the Egyptians, but which hardly 
exists in our day. 

So much as this we may freely concede, that the Pyramid 
has a scientific value, if not a sacred character ; that it is 
full of the wisdom of the Egyptians, if not of the inspira- 
tion of the Almighty ; and that it is a storehouse of ancient 
knowledge, even if it be not the very Ark of the Covenant, 
in which the holiest mysteries are enshrined I 

Leaving out what may be considered fanciful in the spec 



FAREWELL TO THE PYRAMID. 95 

nlationa of the Scotch astronomerj there is yet nnich in the 
facts he presents worthy the consideration of the man of 
science, as well as the devout attention of the student of 
the Bible, and whiijh, if duly weighed, will at once enlarge 
our knowledge and strengthen our faith. 

Such are the lessons that we derive from even our slight 
acquaintance with the Great Pyramid ; and so, as we looked 
back that night, and saw it standing there in the moonlight, 
its cold gray summit, its " chief corner-stone," pointing 
upwards to the clear unclouded firmament, it seemed to 
point to something above the firmament — to turn our ejea 
and thoughts to Heaven and to God. 



CHAPTER Vni. 

LEAVING EGYPT — THE DESERT, 

Wo left Cairo the next morning. Our departure from 
Egypt was not exactly like that of the Israelites, though we 
came through the land of Goshen, and by the way of the 
Red Sea. We did not flee away at night, nor hear the rusli 
of horses and chariots behind us. Indeed we were very 
reluctant to flee at all ; we did not like to go away, for in 
those five or six weeks we had grown very fond of the coun- 
try, to which the society of agreeable travelling companions 
lent an additional charm. 

But the world was all before us, and necessity bade us 
depart. It was the 6th of January, the beginning of the 
feast of Bairam, the Mohammedan Passover. The guns of 
the Citadel ushered in the day, observed by all devout Mus- 
sulmaiis, which commemorates the sacrifice by Abraham — not 
of Isaac, but of Jshmael, for the Arabs, who are descendants 
of Ishmael, have no idea of his being set aside by the other 
son of the Father of the Faithful. On this day every family 
sacrifices the paschal lamb (which explains the flocks of 
sheep which we had seen for several days in the streets of 
the city), and sprinkles its blood upon the lintels and door- 
posts of their houses, that the angel of death may j)ass them 
by. The day is one of general rejoicing and festivity. TJic 
Khedive gives a grand reception to all the foreign represen- 
tatives at his palace of Gezireh, at which I had been invited 
to be present. But from this promised pleasure I had tc 
tear myself away, to reach the steamer at Suez on which W€ 



LEAVINO EGYPT. 07 

were to embark the next day for India. But if we missedi 
the Khedive, we had at least a compensation, for as we werr 
at the station, who should appear but Nubar Pasha ! H(' 
had just resigned the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which 
took a load off his shoulders, and felt like a boy out of 
school, and was now going off to a farm which he has a few 
miles from Cairo, to have a holiday. He immediately came 
to us and took a seat in the same carriage, and we sat to 
gether for an hour, listening to his delightful conversatior*^, 
as he talked of Egypt with a patriot's love and a poefa 
enthusiasm. There is no man who more earnestly wishes 
its prosperity, and it would be well for the Khedive if he 
were always guided by such advisers. At the station hxs 
servants met him with one of those beautiful white donkey s, 
so much prized in the East, and as he rode away waving his 
hand to us, we felt that we were parting from one of the 
wisest and wittiest men whom it had been our good fortune 
to meet in all our travels. 

At Zagazig, the railroad from Cairo unites with that from 
Alexandria. Here we stopped to dine, and while waiting, a 
special train arrived with Mr. Cave, who has come out from 
London to try and put some order into the financial affairs 
of Egypt. If he succeeds, he will deserve to be ranked very 
high as a financier. He was going on to Ismailia to meet 
M. de Lesseps, that they might go through the Suez Cana^ 
together. 

And now we leave behind us the rich land of Goshen, 
where Joseph placed his father Jacob and his brethren, with 
their flocks and herds; we leave the fertile meadows and the 
palm groves. We are on the track of the Israelites ; we 
have passed Eameses, the first station in their march, and 
entered the desert, that ''great and terrible wilderness " in 
which they wandered forty years. Wf enter it, not on 
camels or horses, but drawn by a steed of fire. A railway 
in the desert ! This is progress indeed. There is something 



98 THE BORDER LINE OF ASIA AND AFRICA. 

very imposing to tlie imagination in the idea of aL iron 
track laid in the pathless sands, over which long trains move 
swifter than " the swift dromedaries," and carrying burdens 
greatei than the longest caravans. These are the highways 
of civilization, which may yet carry it into the heart of 
Africa. Here, too, are the great ships, passing through the 
Suez Canal, whose tall masts are outlined against the hori- 
zon, as they move slowly from sea to sea. 

And now we are approaching the border line between 
Asia and Africa. It is an invisible line; no snow-capped 
mountains divide the mighty continents which were the seats 
of the most ancient civilisation ; no sea flows between them : 
the Red Sea terminates over seventy miles from the Mediter- 
ranean ; even the Suez Canal does not divide Asia and Africa, 
for it is wholly in Egypt. Nothing marks where Africa 
ends and Asia begins, but a line in the desert, covered by 
drifting sands. And yet there is something which strangely 
touches the imagination, as we move forward in the twilight, 
with the sun behind us, setting over Africa, and before us 
the black night coming on over the whole continent of Asia. 

So would I take leave of Africa — in the Night and in the 
Desert. Byron closes his Childe Harold with an apostrophe 
to the Ocean, his Pilgrim ending his wanderings on the shore. 
The Desert is like the Sea : it fills the horizon, and shuts out 
the sight of " busy cities far away," leaving one on the 
boundless plain, as on the Ocean — alone with the Night. 
Perhaps I may be indulged in some quiet musings here, 
before we embark on the Bed Sea, and seek a new world in 
India. 

But what can .me say of the desert? The subject seems 
as barren as its own sands. Xi/e in the desert? There is 
no life ; it is the very realm of death, where not a blade of 
grass grows, nor even an insect's wing flutters over the 
mighty desolation; the only objects in motion, the clouds 
that flit across the sky, and cast their shadows on the barren 



THE DESEKT. 9S 

viraste below ; and the only sign that man has ever passed 
over it, the bleaching bones that mark the track of caravans. 

But as we look, behold " a wind cometh out of the North," 
and stirring the loose sand, whirls it into a column, which 
moves swiftly towards us like a ghost, as if it said : " I am 
the spirit of the desert ; man, wherefore comest thou here ? 
Pass on. If thou invadest long my realm of solitude and 
silence, I will make thy grave." We shall not linger, but 
only " tarry for a night," to question a little the mystery 
that lies hidden beneath these drifting sands. 

We look again, and we see shadowy forms coming out of 
the whirlwind — great actors in history, as well as figures of 
the imagination. The horizon is filled with moving caravans 
and marching armies. Ancient conquerors pass this way for 
centuries from Asia into Africa, and back again, the wave 
of conquest flowing and reflowing from the valley of the 
Tigris to the valley of the Nile. As we leave the Land of 
Goshen, we hear behind us the tramp of the Israelites be- 
ginning their march ; and as the night closes in, we see in 
another quarter of the horizon the wise men of the East 
coming from Arabia, following their guiding star, which 
leads them to Bethlehem, where Christ was born. 

And so the desert which was '* dead " becomes ** alive ; " 
a whole living world starts up from the sands, and glides 
into view, appearing suddenly like Arab horsemen, and then 
vanishing as if it had not been, and leaving no trace in the 
sands any more than is left by a wreck that sinks in the 
ocean. But like the sea, it has its passing life, which has a 
deep human interest. And not only is there a life of the 
aesert, but a literature which is the expression of that life — 
a history and a poetry, which take their color from these 
peculiar forms of nature — and even a music of the desert, 
Bung by the camel-drivers, to the slow movement of the cara* 
van, its plaintive cadence keeping time to the tinkling of 
the bells. 

L. of C, 



100 BEAUTY OF THE DESEET. 

It has been one of the prollems of physical geographers 
What was the use of deserts in the economy of nature ? A 
large part of Africa is covered by deserts. The Libyan 
Desert reaches to the Sahara, which stretches across the con- 
tinent. All this seems an utterly waste portion of the earth's 
surface. The same question has been raised in regard to the 
sea : Why is it that three-fourths of the globe are covered by 
water? Perhaps the same answer may be given in both 
cases. These vast spaces may be the generators and puri- 
fiers of the air we breathe — the renovators of our globe's at- 
mosphere. 

And the desert has its beauty as well as its utility. It is 
aot all a dead level, a boundless monotony, but is billowy 
like the sea, with great waves of sand cast up by the wan- 
dering winds. The color, of course, is always the same, for 
there is no green thing to relieve the yellow sand. But na- 
ture sometimes produces great effects with few materials. 

This monotony of color is touched with beauty by the glow 

>f sunset, as the light of day fades over the wide expanse. 

5unrise and sunset on the desert have all the simple but 
ip:-and effects of sunrise and sunset on the ocean. What 

jainter that has visited Egypt has not tried to put on canvas 
;hat after-glow on the Nile, which is alike his wonder and 
his despair ? Egypt is one of the favorite countries sought 
by European artists, who seek to catch that marvellous color 
which is the effect of its atmosphere. They find many a 
subject in the desert. With the accessories of life, few as 
they are, it presents many a scene to attract a painter's eye, 
and furnishes full scope to his genius. A great artist finds 
ample material in its bare and naked outlines, relieved by a 
few solitary figures — the Arab and his tent, or the camel and 
his rider. Perhaps the scene is simply a few palm trees be- 
side a spring, r nder whose shade a traveller has laid him down 
to rest from the noon- tide heat, and beside him are cameli 
feeding ! But here is already a picture. With what effect 



DWELLEKS IN THE DESERT. lUl 

does Gerome give the Prayer in the Desert, with the caniel 
kneeling on the sands, and his rider kneeling beside him, 
with his face turned towards Mecca ; or Death in the Desert, 
where the poor beast, weary and broken, is abandoned to diq, 
yet murmurs not, but has a look of patience and resignation 
that is most pathetic, as the vultures are seen hovering ii 
the air, ready to descend on their prey ! 

A habitat so peculiar as the desert must produce a life aa 
peculiar. It is of necessity a lonely life. The dweller in 
tents is a solitary man, without any fixed ties, or local habi- 
tation. Whoever lives on the desert must live alone, or with 
few companions, for there is nothing to support existence. 
It must be also a nomadic life. If the Arab camps, with his 
flocks and herds, in some green spot beside a spring, yet it 
is only for a few days, for in that time his sheep and cattle 
have consumed the scanty herbage, and he must move on to 
some new resting-place. Thus the life of the desert is a life 
always in motion. The desert has no settled population, no 
towns or villages, where men are born, and grow up, and live 
and die. Its only ^' inhabitants " are " strangers and pil- 
grims," that come alone or in caravans, and pitch their tents, 
and tarry for a night, and are gone. 

Such a life induces peculiar habits, and breeds a peculiar 
class of virtues and vices. Nomadic tribes are almost always 
robbers, for they have to fight for existence, and it is a des- 
perate struggle. But, on the other hand, their solitary life 
as well as the command of the prophet, has taught them the 
virtue of hospitality. Living alone, they feel at times the 
sore need of the presence of their kind, and welcome the 
companionship even of strangers. An Arab sheik may live 
by preying on travellers, but if a wanderer on the desert ap- 
proaches his tent and asks shelter and protection, he gives it 
freely. Even though the old chief be a robber, the stranger 
sleeps in peace and safety, and his entertainer is rewai ded by 
the comfort of seeing a human face and hearing a human voice 



102 THE CAMEL AND CAMEL-RroEK. 

To traverse spaces so vast and so desolate would not b^ 
possible were it not for that faithful beast of burden which 
nature Las provided. Horses may be used by the Bedouins 
on their marauding expeditions, but they keep near the bor- 
ders of the desert, where they can make a dash and fly ; but 
on the long journey across the Great Sahara, by which the 
outer world communicates with the interior of Africa, no 
beast could live but the camel, which is truly the ship of the 
desert. Paley might find an argument for design in the pe- 
culiar structure of the camel for its purpose ; in its stom- 
ach, that can carry water for days, and its foot, which is not 
small like that of the horse, but broad, to keep the huge ani- 
mal from sinking in the sands. It serves as a snow-shoe, 
and bears up both the beast and his rider. Then it is not 
hard like a horse's hoof, that rings so sharp on the pavement, 
but soft almost like a lion's paw. And tall as the creature 
is, he moves with a swinging gait, that is not unpleasant to 
one accustomed to it, and as he comes down on his soft foot, 
the Arab mother sits at ease, and her child is lulled to rest 
almost as if rocked in a cradle. 

Thus moving on in these slow and endless marches, what so 
natural as that the camel-riders should beguile their solitudb 
with song ? The lonely heart relieves itself by pouring its 
loves and its sorrows into the air; and hence come those 
Arabian melodies, so wild and plaintive and tender, which 
constitute the music of the desert. Some years since a sym 
phony was produced in Paris, called " The Desert," which 
created a great sensation, deriving its peculiar charm from its 
unlikeness to European music. It awakened, as it were, a 
new sense in those who had been listening all their lives to 
French and German operas. It seemed to tell — as music only 
*"ells — the story of the life of the desert. In listening one could 
almost see the boundless plain, broken only by the caravan, 
moving slowly across the waste. He could almost " feel the 
uilence" of that vast solitude, and then faintly in the dia 



MUSIC AND rOETRY OF THE DESERT. 103 

tanoe was heard the tinkling of the camel-bells, and the song 
of the desert rose upon the evening air, as softly as if clois- 
tered nuns were singing their vesper hymns. The novel con- 
ception took the fancy of the pleasure seekers of Paris, always 
eager for a new sensation. The symphony made the fame of 
the composer, Felicien David, who was thought to have shown 
a very original genius in the composition of melodies, such as 
Europe had not heard before. The secret was not discovered 
until some French travellers in the East, crossing the desert, 
heard the camel-drivers singing and at once recognized the 
airs that had so taken the enthusiasm of Paris. They were 
the songs of the Arabs. The music was born on the desert, 
and produced such an effect precisely because it was the out- 
burst of a passionate nature brooding in solitude. 

Music and poetry go together : the life that produces the onti 
produces the other also. And as there is a music of the des- 
ert, so there is a poetry of the desert. Indeed the desert may 
be almost said to have been the birthplace of poetry. The 
Book of Job, the oldest poem in the world, older than Homer, 
and grander than any uninspired composition, w^as probably 
written in Arabia, and is full of the imagery of the desert. 

But while the mind carols lightly in poetry and music, its 
deeper musings take the form of Religion. It is easy to see 
how the life of the desert must act upon a thoughtful and 
'* naturally religious " mind. The absence of outward objects 
throws it back upon itself; and it broods over the great 
mystery of existence. Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, when he 
was 



foTmd that 



*' Alone on the wide, wide sea," 

" So lonely 'twas that God himself 
Scarce seemed there to be." 



But in the desert one may say there is nothing but God. H 
tih<»re is little of earth, there is much of heaven. The glory of 



104 EELIGION IN THE DESERT. 

the desert is at niglit, when the full moon rises out of the level 
plain, as out of the sea, and walks the unclouded firmament. 
And when she retires, then all the heavenly host come forth. 
The atmosphere is of such exquidte purity, that the stars 
shine with all their splendor. No vapor rises from the earth, 
no exhalation obscures the firmament, which seems all aglow 
with the celestial fires. It was such a sight that kindled the 
mind of Job, as he looked up from the Arabian deserts three 
thousand years ago, and saw Orion and the Pleiades keeping 
their endless march ; and as led him to sing of the time " when 
the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God 
?houted for joy." 

Is it strange that God should choose such a vast and silent 
temple as this for the education of those whom He would set 
apart for his own service ? Here the Israelites were led apart 
to receive the law from the immediate presence of God. The 
desert was their school, the place of their national education. 
It separated them from their own history. It drew a long 
track between them and the bitter past. It was a fit intro- 
duction to their new life and their new religion, as to their 
new country. 

In such solitudes God has had the most direct commun- 
ion with the individual soul. It was in the desert that Moses 
hid himself in a cleft of the rock while the Lord passed by ; 
that the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind ; and from 
it that John the Baptist came forth, as the voice of one cry- 
ing in the wilderness. 

So in later ages holy men who wished to shun the tempta- 
tions of cities, that they might lead lives of meditation and 
prayer, fled to the desert, that they might forget the world 
and live for God alone. This was one of the favorite retreats 
of Monasticism in the early Christian centuries. The tombs 
of the Thebaid were filled with monks. Convents were built 
on the cliffs of Mount Sinai that remain to this day. 

We do not fool the need of such seclusion and separatioii 



LIFE A DESEKT, AND ALL MEN PILGRIMS. 105 

from the world, but this passing over the desert sets the mind 
at work and supplies a theme for religious meditation. Is not 
life a desert, where, as on the sea, all paths are lost, and the 
traveller can only keep his course by observations on the 
stars ? And are we not all pilgrims ? Do we not all belong 
to that slow moving caravan, that marches steadily across the 
waste and disappears in the horizon? Can we not help some 
poor wanderer who may be lonely and friendless, or who may 
have faltered by the way ; or guide another, if it be only to 
go before hini, and leave our footprints in the sands, that 

** A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
Beeisg m&y take heart again ? " 



CHAPTER IX. 

OS THB RED SEA AND THE INDIAN OCEAW 

Suez lies bet^vveen the desert and the sea', and is the point 
of departure both for ships and caravans. But the great 
canal to which it gives its name, has not returned the favor 
by giving it prosperity. Indeed the country through which 
it passes derives little benefit from its construction. Before 
it was opened, Egypt was on the overland route to India, 
from which it derived a large revenue. All passengers had 
to disembark at Alexandria and cross by railroad to Suez ; 
while freight had to be unshipped at the one city and re- 
shipped at the other, and thus pay tribute to both. Now 
ships pass directly from the Mediterranean into the canal, 
and from the canal into the Ked Sea, so that the Englishman 
who embarks at Southampton, need not set his foot on the 
soil of Egypt. Thus it is not Egypt but England that profits 
by the opening of the Suez Canal ; while Egypt really suffers 
by the completion of a work which is of immense benefit to 
the commerce of the world. 

Though the Suez Canal is an achievement of modern timeS; 
yet the idea is not modern, nor indeed the first execution. It 
was projected from almost the earliest period of history, and 
was begun under the Pharaohs, and was at one time com- 
pleted, though not, as now, solely for the passage of ships, 
but also as a defence, a gigantic moat, which might serve m 
a barrier against invasions from Asia. 



EMBARKING AT SUEZ. 107 

There is nothing in Suez to detain a traveller, and with 
the morning we were sailing out in one of the native boats, 
before a light wind, to the great ship lying in the harbor, 
which was to take us to India. We had, indeed, a foretaste, 
or rather foresight, of what we were soon to look upon in the 
farthest East, as we saw some huge elephants moving along 
the quay ; but these were not familiar inhabitants, but had 
just been disembarked from a ship arrived only the day before 
from Bombay — a present from the Viceroy of India to the 
Viceroy of Egypt. 

Once on board ship I was as in mine own country, for now, 
for the first time in many months, did I hear constantly the 
English language. We had been so long in Europe, and 
heard French, German, Italian, Greek and Turkish ; and 
Arabic in Egypt ; that at first I started to hear my own 
mother tongue. I could not at once get accustomed to it, but 
called to the waiter " gargon," and was much surprised that 
he answered in English. But it was very pleasant to come 
back to the speech of my childhood. Henceforth English 
will carry me around the globe. It is the language of the sea, 
and of " the ends of the earth ; " and it seems almost as if the 
good time were coming when the whole earth should be of one 
language and of one speech. 

And now we are on the Bed Sea, one of the historical seas 
of the world. Not far below the town of Suez is supposed 
to be the spot where the Israelites were hemmed in between 
the mountains and the sea; where Moses bade the waves 
divide, and the fleeing host rushed in between the uplifted 
walls, feeling that, if they perished, the waters were more 
merciful than their oppressors ; while behind them came the 
chariots of their pursuers. 

It was long before we lost sight of Egypt. On our right 
was the Egyptian coast, still in view, though growing 
dimmer on the horizon; and as we sat on deck at evening 
the gorgeous sunsets flamed over those shores, as they did 



108 THE RED SEA. 

on the Nile, as if reluctant to leave the scene of so mud 
glorj. 

On the other side of the sea stretched the Peninsula of 
Sinai, with its range of rugged mountains, among whiob 
the eye sought the awful summit from which God gave the 
law. 

This eastern side of the Red Sea has been the birthplace 
of religions. Half way down the coast is Jhidda, the port 
of Mecca. Thus Islam was born not far from the birth- 
place of Judaism, of which in many features it is a close 
imitation. 

I have asked many times. What gave the name to the Red 
Sea ? Certainly it is not the color of the water, which is blue 
as the sea anywhere. It is said that there is a phosphorescent 
glow, given by a marine insect, which at night causes the 
waters to sparkle with a faiut red light. Others say it is 
from the shores, which being the borders of the desert, have 
its general sandy red, or yellow, appearance. I remember 
years ago, when sailing along the southern coast of Wales, 
a gentleman, pointing to some red-banked hills, said they 
reminded him of the shores of the Red Sea. 

But whether they have given it its name or not, these sur- 
rounding deserts have undoubtedly given it its extreme heat, 
from which it has become famous as " the hottest place in the 
world." The wind blowing off from these burning sands, 
scorches like a sirocco ; nor is the heat much tempered by 
the coolness of tlie sea — for indeed the water itself becomes 
heated to such a degree as to be a serious impediment to the 
rapid condensation of steam. 

We began to feel the heat immediately after leaving Suez. 
The very next day officers of the ship appeared in white 
linen pantaloons, which seemed to me a little out of season j 
but I soon found that they were wiser than I, especially agf 
the heat increased from day to day as we got more into the 
tropics. Then, to confess the truth, they sometimes appeared 



HEAT ON TirE KED SEA. 109 

on deck in the early morning in the most neglige attire. At 
first I was a little shocked to see, not only officers of the 
ship, but officers of the army, of high rank, coming on deck 
after their baths barefoot ; but I soon came to understand 
how they should be eager, when they were almost burning 
with fever, to be relieved of even the slightest addition to 
weight or warmth. In the cabin punkas, long screenSj 
were hung over the tables, and kept swinging all day long. 
The deck was hung with double awnings to keep off the 
sun ; and here the " old Indians " who had made this 
voyage before, and knew how to take their comfort in the 
hot climate, were generally stretched out in their reclining 
bamboo-chairs, with a cigar in one hand and a novel in the 
other. 

The common work of the ship was done by Lascars, from 
India, as they can stand the heat much better than English 
sailors. They are docile and obedient, and under the train- 
ing of English officers make excellent seamen. 

But we must not complain, for they tell us our voyage has 
been a very cool one. The thermometer has never been 
above 88 degrees, which however, considering that this is 
midwinter^ is doing pretty well ! 

If such be the heat in January, what must it be in July ? 
Then it is fairly blistering ; the thermometer rises to 110 
and 112 degrees in the shade; men stripped of clothing to 
barely a garment to cover them, are panting with the heat ; 
driven from the deck, they retreat to the lower part of the 
ship, to find a place to breathe ; sometimes in despair, the 
captain tells me, they turn the ship about, and steam a few 
miles in the opposite direction, to get a breath of air ; and 
yet, with all precautions, he adds that it is not an infrequent 
thing, that passengers overpowered sink under a sunstroke 
or apoplexy. 

Such heat would make the voyage to India vne of real 
Buffering, and of serious exposure, were it not for the admir 



110 THE GOOD SHIP. 

able ships in which it can be made. But these of the Pen 
insular and Oriental company are about as perfect as any- 
thing that swims the seas. We were fortunate in hitting 
upon the largest and best of the fleet, the Peshawur. Accus- 
tomed as we have been of late to the smaller steamers on the 
Mediterranean, she seems of enormous bulk, and is of great 
strength as well as size ; and being intended for hot climates, 
is constructed especially for coolness and ventilation. The 
state-rooms are much larger than in most sea-going steamers, 
and though intended for three persons, as the ship was not 
crowded (there were berths for 170 passengers, while we had 
out 34, just one-fifth the full complement) we had each a 
whole state-room to ourselves. There were bath-rooms in 
ample supply, and we took our baths every morning as 
regularly as on land. 

On the Peshawur, as on all English ships, the order and 
discipline were admirable. Every man knew his place, 
and attended to his duty. Everything was done silently, 
and yet so regularly that one felt that there was a sharp eye 
in every corner of the ship ; that there was a vigilant watch 
night and day, and this gave us such a sense of safety, 
that we lay down and rose up with a feeling of perfect 
security. 

Besides, the officers, from the captain down, not only took 
good care for the safety of our lives, but did everything for 
our comfort. They tried to make us feel at home, and were 
never so well pleased as when they saw us all pleasantly 
occupied ; some enjoying games, and others listening to 
music, when some amateur was playing on the piano, at 
times accompanied by a dozen manly and womanly voices. 
Music at sea helps greatly to beguile the tedium of a voyage. 
Often the piano was brought on deck, at which an extempo- 
rized eho'.r practised the hymns for public service ; among 
which there was one that always recurred, and that none c&n 
forget ; 



ADEN. Ill 

** Eternal Father, strong to save, 
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, 
Who bid'st the mighty ocean deep 
Its own appointed limits keep : 

Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee 

For those in peril on the sea." 

And when the Sunday morning came and the same piayerg 
were read which, they had been accustomed to hear in Eng- 
land, many who listened felt that, whatever oceans they 
might cross, here was a tie that bound them to their island 
home, and to the religion of their fathers. 

On the morning of the sixth day we passed the island of 
Perim, which guards the Gates of the Red Sea, and during 
the day passed many islands, and were in full sight of the 
Arabian coast, and at the evening t*'uched at Aden. Here 
the heat reaches the superlative. In going down the Red 
Sea, one may use all degrees of comparison — hot, hotter, 
hottest — and the last is Aden. It is a barren point of rock 
and sand, within twelve degrees of the Equator, and the town 
is actually in the crater of an extinct volcano, into which the 
sun beats down with the heat of Nebuchadnezzar's furnace. 
But the British Government holds it, as it commands the 
entrance to the Red Sea, and has fortified it, and keeps a 
garrison here. However it mercifully sends few English 
soldiers to such a spot, but supplies the place chiefly with 
native regiments from India. All the officers hold the place 
in horror, counting it a very purgatory, from which it is 
Paradise to be ".ransferred to India. 

But from this point the great oppression of the heat ceased. 
Rounding this rock of Aden, we no longer bore southward 
(which would have taken us along the Eastern coast of 
Africa, to the island of Zanzibar, the point of departure foi 
Livingstone to explore the interior, and of Stanley to find 
him), but turned to the East, and soon met the Northeast 



lis ON THE INDIAN OCEAN. 

monsoon, which, blowing in our faces, kept us comparatively 
cool all the way across the Indian Ocean. 

And now our thoughts began to be busy with the strange 
land which we were soon to see, a land to which most of those 
on board belonged, and of which they were always ready to 
converse. Strangers to each other, we soon became acquaint- 
ed, and exchanged our experiences of travel. Beside me at 
the table sat a barrister from Bombay, and next to him three 
merchants of that city, who, leaving their families in Eng- 
land, were returning to pursue their fortunes in India. One 
had been a member of the Governor's Council, and all were 
familiar with the politics and the business of that great 
Empire. There was also a missionary of the Free Church of 
Scotland, who, after ten years' service, had been allowed a 
year and a half to recruit in the mother country, and was 
now returning to his field of labor in Bombay, with whom I 
had many long talks about the religions of India and the 
prospects of missions. There was a fine old gentleman who 
had made his fortune in Australia, to which he was returning 
with his famil}'^ after a visit to England. 

The military element, of course, was very prominent. A 
large proportion of the passengers were connected in some 
way with the army, ofl&cers returning to their regiments, or 
officers' wives returning to their husbands. Of course those 
who live long in India, have many experiences to relate ; 
and it was somewhat exciting to hear one describe the par- 
ticulars of a tiger hunt — how the game of all kind was driven 
in from a circuit of miles around by beaters, and by elephants 
trained for the work ; how the deer and lesser animals fled 
fiightened by, while the hunter, bent on royal game, dis- 
dained such feeble prey, and every man reserved his fire, sit- 
ting in his howdah on the back of an elephant till at last a 
magnificent Bengal tiger sprang into view, and as the balla 
rained on his sides, with a tremendous bound he fell at the 
feet of the hunters ; or to hear a Major who had been is 



FELLOW PASSENGERS. 113 

India during the Mutiny, describe the blowing away of 
the Sepoys from the mouths of cannon ; with what fierce 
pride, like Indian warriors at the stake, they shrank not 
from, the trial, but even when not bound, stood un- 
moved before the guns, till they were blown to pieces, their 
legs and arms and mangled breasts scattered wide over the 
field. 

There was a surgeon in the Bengal Staff Corps, Dr. Bel- 
lew, who had travelled extensively in the interior of Asia, 
attached to sf^veral missions of the Government, and had pub- 
lished a volume, entitled " From the Indus to the Tigris." 
He gave me some of his experiences in Afghanistan, among 
the men of Cabul, and in Persia. Three years since he was 
attached to the mission of Sir Douglas Forsyth to Kashgar 
and Yarkund. This was a secret embassy of the govern- 
ment to Yakoob Beg, the Tartar chief, who by his courage as 
a soldier had established his power in those distant regions 
of Central Asia. In carrying out this mission, the party 
crossed the Himalayas at a height far greater than the top 
of Mont Blanc. Our fellow traveller gave us some fearful 
pictures of the desolation of those snowy wastes, as well as 
some entertaining ones of the strange manners of some parts 
of High Asia. He passed through Little Thibet, where 
prevails the singular custom of polyandry — instead of one 
man having many wives, one woman may have many husbands, 
although they cannot be of different families. She can marry 
half a dozen brothers at once, but must not extend her house- 
bold into another family. He was now bound for ISTepaul, 
under the shadow of the Himalayas, being ordered to report 
at once tc the Maharajah, who is preparing to receive the 
Prince of Wales, and to entertain him with the grandest 
tiger hunt ever known in India. 

With such variety of company, and such talk to enliven 
the hours, as we sat on deck at twilight, or by moonlight — 
for we had the full moon on the Indian Ocean — the days did 



114 AERIVAL m INDIA. 

not seem l:)ng, and we were almost taken ly surprise as wt 
approached the end of our voyage. 

On the afternoon of the twelfth day from Suez we 
were nearing our destined port, and eyes and glasses were 
turned in that direction; but it was not till the sun was 
setting that his light shone full on the Ghauts, the range 
of mountains that line the western coast of India — steps, as 
their name implies, to the high table-land of the interior. 
Presently as the darkness deepened, the revolving light of 
the lighthouse shot across the deep ; signal guns from the 
city announced the arrival of the mail from England ; rows 
of lamps shining for miles round the bay lighted up the 
waters and the encircling fchore ; and, there was India I 



CHAPTER X. 

BOMBAY —FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF INDIA. 

Never did travellers open their eyes with more of wondei 
and curiosity than we, as we awoke the next morning and 
went on deck and turned to the unaccustomed shore. The sun 
had risen over the Ghauts, and now cast his light on the 
islands, covered with cocoanut palms, and on the forest of 
shipping that lay on the tranquil waters. Here were ships 
from all parts of the world, not only from the Mediterranean 
and from England, but from every part of Asia and Africa, 
and from Australia. A few weeks before had been witnessed 
here a brilliant sight at the landing of the Prince of Wales. 
A long arched way of trellis work, still hung with faded wreaths, 
marked the spot where the future Emperor of India first set 
foot upon its soil. Our ship, which had anchored off the 
mouth of the harbor, now steamed up to her moorings, a tug 
took us off to the Mazagon Bunder, the landing place of the 
Peninsular and Oriental Company, where we mounted a long 
flight of granite steps to the quay — and were in India. 

Passing through the Custom House gates, we were greeted 
not by the donkey-boys of Egypt, but by a crowd of bare- 
footed and barelegged Hindoos, clad in snowy white, and 
with mountainous turbans on their heads, who were ambi- 
tious of the honor of driving us into the city. The native 
carriage (or gharri^ as it is called) is not a handsome equi- 
page. It is a mere box, oblong in shape, set on wheels, having 
latticed windows like a palanquin, to admit the air and shut 
out the sun. Mo'inting into such a " State carriage,'* our 



fl6 STRANGE POPULATIOIT. 

•solemn Hindoo gave rein to his steed, and we tiott(<d off into 
Bombay. As our destination was Watson's Ho';el, in the 
English quarter at the extreme end of the city, we traversed 
almost its whole extent. The streets seemed endless. On 
and on we rode for miles, till we were able to realize that we 
veve in the second city in the British empire — larger than 
any in Great Britain except London — larger than Liverpool 
or Glasgow, or Manchester or Birmingham. 

Of course the population is chiefly native, and this it is 
which excites my constant wonder. As I ride about I ask 
myself, Am I on the earth, or in the moon ? Surely this 
must be some other planet than the one that I have known 
before. I see men as trees walking, but they are not of any 
familiar form or speech. Perhaps it is because we are on the 
other side of the world, and everything is turned topsy-turvy, 
and men are walking on their heads. We may have to 
adopt the Darwinian theory of the origin of man ; for 
these seem to be of another species, to belong to another 
department of the animal kingdom. That old Hindoo that I 
see yonder, sitting against the wall, with his legs curled up 
under him, seems more like a chimpanzee than a man. 
He has a way of sitting on his heels (a posture which would 
be impossible for a European, but which he will keep for 
hours), which is more like an animal than a human creature. 

Truly we have never been in such a state of bewilderment 
since we began our travels, as since we landed in Bombay. 
Constantinople seemed strange, and Egypt stranger still ; but 
India is strangest of all. The streets are swarming with life, 
as a hive swarms with bees. The bazaars are like so many 
ant-hills, but the creatures that go in and out are not like 
any race that we have seen before. They fire not white like 
Europeans, nor black like Africans, nor red like our Ameri- 
can Indians ; but are pure Asiatics, of a dark-brown color, 
the effect of which is the greater, as they are generally clad 
in the garments which nature gives them. The laboring clasa 



COSTCJMES OF MEN AND WOMEN. 117 

go half naked, or more than half. It is only the he ase- 
servants that wear anything that can be called a costume. 
The coolies, or common laborers, have only a strip of cloth 
around their loins, which they wear for decency, for in this 
climate they scarcely need any garment for warmth. One thing 
which is never omitted is the turban, or in its place a thick 
blanket, to shield the head from the direct rays of the sun. 
But there is nothing to hide the swarthy breast or limbs. 
Those of a better condition, who do put on clothing, show 
the Oriental fondness for gorgeous apparel by having the 
richest silk turbans and flowing robes. The women find a 
way to show their feminine vanity, being tricked out in 
many colors, dark red, crimson and scarlet, with yellow and 
orange and green and blue — the mingling of which produces 
a strange efiect as one rides through the bazaars and crowded 
streets, which gleam with all the colors of the rainbow. The 
effect of this tawdry finery is heightened by the gewgaws 
which depend from difierent parts of their persons. Earrings 
are not sufficiently conspicuous for a Hindoo damsel, who has 
a ring of gold and pearl hung in her nose ; which is considered 
a great addition to female beauty. Heavy bracelets of silver 
also adorn her wrists and ankles. Almost every woman who 
shows herself in the street, though of the lowest condition, 
and barefoot, still gratifies her pride by huge silver anklets 
clasping her naked feet. 

But these Asiatic faces, strange as they are, would not bo 
unattractive but for artificial disfigurements — if men did not 
chew the betel nut, which turns the lips to a brilliant red, 
and did not have their foreheads striped with coarse pig 
ments, which are the badges of their difierent castes ! 

Imagine a whole city crowded with dark skinned men and 
women thus dressed — or not dressed — half naked on the one 
hand, or bedizened like harlequins on the other, walking 
about, or perchance riding in little carriages drawn hy oxen — 
a small breed that trot off almost as fast as the donkeys w« 



118 OEIENTAL MA-N^EItS. 

had in Cairo — and one may have some idea of i\e picturesque 
appearance of the streets of Bombay. 

Wo are becoming accustomed to the manners and cus 
toms of this eastern world. We never sit down to dinnei 
but with the punka swinging over us, and the *' punka- 
walla," the coolie who swings it, is a recognized institution. 
In the hot months it is kept swinging all night, and Euro- 
peans sleep under it. These things strike us strangely at 
first, but we soon get used to these tropical devices, and in 
fact rather like them. In a few days we have become quite 
Oriental. To confess the truth, there are some things here 
in the East that are not at all disagreeable to the natural 
man, especially the devices for coolness and comfort, and the 
extreme deference to Europeans, which we begin to accept as 
naturally belonging to us. 

At first I was surprised and amused at the manners of the 
people. It was a new sensation to be in this Asiatic atmos- 
phere, to be surrounded and waited upon by soft-footed Hin- 
doos, who glided about noiselessly like cats, watching every 
look, eager to anticipate every wish before they heard the 
word of command. I was nev^er the object of such reverence 
before. Every one addressed me as " Sahib." I did not 
know at first what this meant, but took it for granted that 
it was a title of respect — an impression confirmed by the 
deferential manner of the attendants. I could not walk 
through the corridor of the hotel without a dozen servants 
rising to their feet, wlio remained standing till I had passed. 
I was a little taken aback when a turbaned Oriental, in flow- 
ing robe, approached me with an air of profound reverence, 
bending low, as if he would prostrate himself at my feet. If 
he desired to present a petition to my august majesty (which 
was, probably, that I would buy a cashmere shawl), he bowed 
himself almost to the ground, and reached down his hand 
very low, and then raising it, touched his forehead, as if he 
vrould take up the di;st of the earth and cast it on his h^ad, 



RroES ABOUT THE CITY. 119 

in token that lie was unworthy to enter into such an awful 
presence. I never knew before how great a being I was. 
There is nothing like going far away from home, to the other 
side of the world, among Hindoos or Hottentots, to be fully 
appreciated. 

After a little experience, one learns to accept these Hin- 
doo salaams and obeisances. Now, when I walk down the 
passages of the hotel, and snowy turbans rise on either side 
in token of homage, I bow in acknowledgment, though very 
slightly, so as not to concede a particle of my dignity, or 
encourage any familiarity. When I open my door in the 
morning, I find half a dozen coolies in the passage, who have 
curled up on mats and slept there all night, as Napoleon's 
Mameluke slept before his master's door. It gives one a 
sense of dignity and importance to be thus served and 
guarded and defended ! I suspect all of us have a littl*^ (or 
a good deal) of the Asiatic in our composition, and could 
easily play the pasha and drop into these soft Eastern ways, 
and fiud it not unpleasant to recline on a divan, apd i e 
waited on by dusky slaves ! 

We find that we are in a tropical climate by the heat that 
oppresses us. Although it is midwinter, we find it prudent, 
as well as pleasant to remain indoors in the middle of the 
day (time which is very precious for writing), and make our 
excursions in the morning or evening. 

Morning in the tropics is delightful. There is a dewy 
freshness in the air. Kising at daylight we take a small open 
carriage — a kind of '' one horse shay " — for our ride. It has 
but one seat, but the Hindoo driver, nimble as a cat, 
crouches at our feet, with his legs dangling over the side in 
front of the wheels, and thus mounted we gallop olf gayly. 

One of our morning excursions was to the Flower Markot, 
where the fruits and flowers of the country are displayed 
with truly tropical profusion. The building, designed with 
Elngiish taste, is of great extent, surrounding a spacious 



120 THE PUBLIC GARDENS. 

court, whicli is laid out like a garden, with fountains ind 
ferns, and flowering shrubs and creepers growing luxuriantly. 
Here are offered for sale all kinds of poultry and birds, par- 
rots, and even monkeys. The Flower Market is especially 
brilliant, as flowers are the customary offerings at temples. 
They are very cheap. Five cents bought a large bunch of 
roses. White jessamines and yellow marigolds are wrought 
into wreaths and garlands for their festivities. The fruits 
we liked less than the flowers. They were very tempting to 
the eye, but too rich for our appetite. The famous mango 
cloyed us with its sweetness. Indeed, I made the observa- 
fcion here, which I had to repeat afterwards in Java, that the 
tropical fruits, though large and luscious, had not the deli- 
cate flavor of our Northern fruits. A good New Jersey 
peach would have been far sweeter to my taste than the 
ripest orange or mango, or the longest string of bananas. 

Tn the evening we ride out to Malabar Hill, or go to the 
public gardens which English taste has laid out in different 
parts of the city. Although Bombay is a city of Hindoos, 
yet the stamp of English rule is everywhere impressed upon 
it. Like the cities of Great Britain, it is thoroughly gov- 
erned. The hand of a master is seen in its perfect police, 
its well ordered and well lighted streets. There are signs of 
its being gained by conquest and held by military power. 
The English quarter is still called the Fort, being on the site 
of an old fortress, the ramparts of which are all swept awa}'', 
and in their place are wide streets (indeed too wide for shade), 
and a number of public buildings — Government offices, the 
Postoffice, and the Telegraph Building, and the University— 
which would be an ornament to any city in England. Here 
English taste comes in to add to its natural beauty in the lay- 
ing out of open squares. Our windows at the Hotel look out 
upon the Es[)lanade, a large parade ground, the very spot 
where the Sepoys were shot away from the guns after the 
mutiny, and upon the sea, from which comes at evening 



ENVIKONS OF BOMBAY. 121 

a soft, delicious air from the Indian ocean. It is a 
pretty sight to go here at sunset, when the band is play- 
ing and there is a great turnout of carriages, bringing 
the fashion and wealth of Bombay to listen to the music 
and inhale the fresh breezes from the sea, that no doubt 
ftre sweeter to many in that they seem to come from 
their beloved England. In the crowd of well dressed people 
wealthy Parsees (distinguished by their high hats), and Hin- 
doos by their turbans, mingle with English officers, and the 
children of all run about together on the lawn. My com- 
panion noticed particularly the Parsee children, whose dresses 
were gay with many colors — little fellows shining in pink 
trousers, blue shirts, green vests, and scarlet caps ! Others 
had satin trousers and vests of some bright color, and over 
all white muslin or lace trimmings. The effect of such a 
variety of colors was as if parterres of flowers were laid out 
on the smooth shaven lawn. In another part of tlie city the 
Victoria Gardens are set out like a Botanical Garden, with 
all manner of plants and trees, especially with an endless 
variety of palms, under which crowds saunter along the 
avenues, admiring the wonders of tropical vegetation, and 
listening to the music that fills the evening air. 

The environs of Bombay are very beautiful. Few cities 
have a more delightful suburb than Malabar Hill, where the 
English merchant, after the business of the day is over, re- 
treats from the city to enjoy a home which, though Indian 
without, is English within. Hundreds of bungalows are 
clustered on these eminences, shaded with palms and embow- 
ered in tropical foliage, with steep roofs, always thatched as a 
better protection from the sun. Here the occupants sit at 
evening on the broad verandahs, stretched in their long bam- 
boo chairs, enjoying the cool air that comes in from the sea, 
and talk of England or of America. 

There are not many Americans in Bombay, although in ol« 
way the city is, or was, closely connected with our country, 



122 CONNECTION WITH AMERICA. 

Nowhere was the effect of our civil war more felt than ii 
India, as it gave a great impetus to its cotton production. 
Under the sudden and powerful stimulus, Bombay started up 
into an artificial prosperity. Fortunes were made rapidly 
The close of the war brought a panic from which it has not 
yet recovered. But the impulse given has remained, and I 
am told that there is at this moment more cotton grown in 
India than ever before, although the fall in prices has cut ofi 
the great profits. But the cost of transportation is much less, 
as the railroads constructed within a few years afford the 
means of bringing it to market, where before it had to be 
draM^Ti slowly over the mountains in ox-carts. This flow of 
cotton to the seaports has been turned to account by the 
erection of cotton mills (several of which have been started 
here in Bombay), which, under the direction of Englishmen, 
and having the double advantage of native cotton and native 
labor, may yet supplant English fabrics in the markets of 
India. 

Though there are few Americans (except the missionaries) 
here, yet there is one who has all the enterprise of his coun- 
trymen, Mr. Kittredge, who came out to India many years ago, 
and is now the head of the old house of Stearns, Hobart & Co, 
He has introduced that peculiarly American institution, the 
street railway — or tramway, as it is called here — which is a 
great comfort in moving about the city, where transportation 
before was chiefly by little ox-carts. The cars run smoothly, 
and as they are open at the sides are delightfully cool. The 
Hindoos, though slow in adopting new ideas or new ways, 
take to these as an immense convenience. Not the least good 
eifect is the pressure which they bring to bear on caste, by 
forcing those of different castes to sit side by side ! 

A very singular people, found in Bombay, and nowhere 
else in India, are the Parsees, who differ from the Hindoos 
both in race and religion. They are followers of Zoroaster, 
the philosopher of Persia, from which tliey were driven out cen 



THE PAESEES. 123 

fcuries ago by the merciless followers of the Prophet, and 
took refuge in Western India, and being, as a c ass, of supe- 
rior intelligence and education, they have risen to a high posi- 
tion. They are largely the merchants of Bombayj and among 
them are some of its wealthiest citizens, whose beautiful 
houses, surrounded with gardens, line the road to Parell, the 
residence of the Governor. They are fire -worshippers, ador- 
ing it as the principle of life. Morning and evening they 
may be seen uncovering their heads, and turning reverently 
to the rising or the setting sun, and offering their adoration 
to the great luminary, which they regard as the source of 
all life on earth. As I have seen them on the seashore, 
turning their faces to the setting sun, and lifting their hands 
as if in prayer, I have thought, that if this be idolatry, it is 
at least not so degrading as that of the Hindoos around them, 
for if they bow to a material object, it is at least the most 
glorious which they see in nature. The more intelligent of 
them, however, explain that it is not the sun itself they wor- 
ship, but only regard it as the brightest symbol and manifesta- 
tion of the Invisible Deity. But they seem to have an idola- 
trous reverence for fire, and keep a lamp always burning in 
their houses. It is never suffered to go out day nor night, 
from year to year. The same respect which they show to 
fire, they show also to the other elements — earth, air, and 
water. 

A revolting application of their principles is seen in their 
mode of disposing of the dead. They cannot burn them, as 
do the Hindoos, lest the touch of death should pollute the 
flames ; nor can they bury them in the earth, nor in the sea, 
for earth and water and air are all alike sacred. They there- 
fore expose the bodies of their dead to be devoured ly birds 
of the air. Outside of Bombay, on Malabar Hill, are three 
or four circular towers — called The Towers of Silence, 
which are enclosed by a high wall to keep observers at a dis- 
tance. When a Parsee dies, his body is conveyed to tlic 



134 THE TOWERS OF SILENCE. 

gates, and taeie received by the priests, by whom it i» e3po» 
ed on gratings constructed for the purpose. 

Near at hand, perched in groves of palms, are the vultures. 
We saw them there in great numbers. As soon as a funeral 
procession approaches, they scent their prey, and begin to 
circle in the air ; and no sooner is a body uncovered, and 
left by the attendants, than a cloud of black wings settles 
down upon it, and a hundred horned beaks are tearing at 
the flesh. Such are their numbers and voracity, that in a few 
minutes — so we are told — every particle is stripped from the 
bones, which are then slid down an inclined plane into a deep 
pit, where they mingle with common clay. 

Compared with this, the Hindoo mode of disposing of 
the dead, by burning, seems almost like Christian burial. 
Yet it is done in a mode which is very offensive. In re- 
turning from Malabar Hill one evening, along the beautiful 
drive around the bay, we noticed a number of furnace-like 
openings, where fires were burning, from which proceeded a 
ifickening smell, and were told that this was the burning of 
the bodies of the Hindoos ! 

This mode of disposing of the dead may be defended on 
(grounds of health, especially in great cities. But, at any 
rate, I wish there was nothing worse to be said of the Hin- 
doos than their mode of treating the forms from which life 
has departed. But their religion is far more cruel to the 
living than to the dead. 

To one who has never been in a Pagan country, that which 
is most new and strange is its idolatry. Bombay is fall of 
temples, which at certain hours are crowded with worship- 
pers. Here they flock every morning to perform their de- 
votions. There is nothing like the orderly congregation 
gathered in a Christian house of worship, sitting quietly in 
their places, and listening to a sermon. The people come 
and go at will, attending to their devotions, as they would to 
any matter of business. A large part of their '* ^vorship '• 



IDOLATEY — HINDOO TEMPI Et3. 125 

Cuusists in vyashing themselves. With the Hindoos as with 
the Mohammedans, bathing is a part of their religion. The 
temple grounds generally enclose a large tank, into which 
they plunge every morning, and come up, as they believe, 
clean from the washing. At the temple of Momba Davi (the 
god who gives name to Bombay), we watched these purifica- 
tions and other acts of worship. Within the enclosure, be- 
side the temple filled with hideous idols, there was the sacred 
cow (which the people would consider it a far greater crime 
to kill than to kill a Christian) which chewed her cud undis- 
turbed, though not with half so much content as if she had 
oeen in a field of sweet-scented clover ; and there stood the 
peepul tree, the sacred tree of India (a species of banyan), 
round which men and women were walking repeating their 
prayers, and leaving flowers as oiFerings at its foot. This 
latter custom is not peculiar to Pagan countries. In Chris- 
tian as well as in heathen lands flowers are laid on the 
altar, as if their beauty were grateful to the Unseen Eye, 
and their perfume a kind of incense to the object of devo- 
tion. Inside the enclosure men were being washed and 
shaved (on their heads as well as on their faces), and painted 
on their foreheads (as Catholics might be with the sign of 
the cross) to mark the god they worship. And not only in 
the temples, but along the streets, in the houses, which were 
open to the view of passers-by, people were taking plentiful 
ablutions, almost a full bath, and making their toilet, quite 
unembarrassed by the presence of strangers. 

These observances (if divested of any religious value) are 
not to be altogether condemned. The habit of frequent 
bathing is very useful in a sanitary point of view, especially 
in this hot climate. But that which most excites our 
admiration is the scrupulous regularity of the Hindoos 
in their worship. They have to " do their pooja " (that 
in, make their offerings and perform their devotions) befo^ « 
they go to their work, or even partake of foodl Here if 



126 HOSPITAL FOK ANIMALS. 

an example of reKgious fidelity worthy of Cliristian imit& 
tion. 

The religious ideas of the Hindoos show themselve* in 
other ways, which at least challenge our respect for their 
consistency. In their eyes all life is sacred, the life of beast 
and bird, nay, of reptile and insect, as well as of man. Tc 
carry out this idea they have established a Hospital for Ani- 
mals, which is one of the institutions of Bombay. It is on a 
very extensive scale, and presents a spectacle such as I do 
not believe can be seen anywhere else in the world. Here, 
in an enclosure covering many acres, in sheds, or stables, or 
in the open grounds, as may best promote their recovery, are 
gathered the lame, the halt, and the blind, not of the human 
species, but of the animal world — cattle and horses, sheep 
and goats, dogs and cats, rabbits and monkeys, and beasts 
and birds of every description. Even poor little monkeys 
forgot to be merry, and looked very solemn as they sat on 
their perch. The cows, sacred as they were, were yet not 
beyond the power of disease, and had a most woe-begone 
look. Long rows of stables were filled with broken-down 
norses, spavined and ring-boned, with ribs sticking out of 
their sides, or huge sores on their flanks, dripping with blood. 
In one pen were a number of kittens, that mewed and cried 
for their mothers, though they had a plentiful supply of milk 
for their poor little emaciated bodies. The Hindoos send 
out carts at night and pick them up wherever they have been 
cast into the street. Rabbits, whom no man would own, 
have he\e a snug warren made for them, and creej) in and 
out with a feeling of safety and comfort. In a large enclo- 
sure were some hundred dogs, more wretched-looking than 
the dogs of Constantinople — " whelps and curs of low de- 
gree." These poor creatures had been so long the compan 
ions of man that, ill-treated as they were, starved and kicked, 
they still apparently longed for human society, and as soon 
as they saw us they seenif d to recognize us as their deliv 



HOSPITAL FOE ANIMALS. 121 

erers, and set up a howling and yelping, and leaped against 
the bars of their prison house, as if imploring ub to give then? 
liberty. 

And here is a collection of birds to fill an extensive aviary, 
though in their present condition they do not look exactly 
like birds of Paradise. There are not only '' four black 
crows," but more than any farmer would like to see in hia 
wheat field (for India is the land of crows). Tall cranes^ 
that had been wont to step with long legs by the marshy 
brink of ri vei-s, here were bandaged and .splintered till they 
could walk once more. Broken-winged seagulls, that could 
no more sweep over the boundless sea, free as its own waves, 
were nursed till they could fly again. 

The spectacle thus presented was half touching and half 
ludicrous. One cannot but respect the Hindoo's regard for 
life, as a thing not to be lightly and wantonly destroyed. 
And yet they carry it to an extent that is absurd. They will 
not take the life of animals for food, nor even of creatures 
that are annoying or dangerous to themselves. Many v/ill 
not crush the insects that buzz around them and sting them, 
nor kill a cobra that crawls into their houses, even when it 
threatens to bite them or their children. It has been said 
that they even nurse serpents, and when recovered, turn them 
loose into the jungle ; but of this we saw no evidence. But 
certainly many wretched creatures, whose existence is not 
worth keeping, which it were a mercy to let die, are here res- 
cued and brought back to life. 

While walking through these grounds in company with a 
couple of missionaries, I thought how much better these ani- 
mals were cared for than some men. I was thinking of some 
of our broken-down ministers at home, who, after serving 
their people faithfully for a whole generation, are at last sent 
adrift without ceremony, like an old horse turned out by the 
roadside to die ! What lives of drudgery and toil do such 
ministers lead ! They are " beasts of burden," more than any 



128 THE OAVES OF ELEPHAITTA. 

beast of the field. And when their working days are over^ 
can they not he cared for as well as tlie Hindoos care for old 
horses and camels ? If only these shattered wrecks (and 
magnificent wrecks some of them are) were towed into port 
and allowed to rest in tranquil waters ; or (to change the 
figure) if these old veterans were housed and warmed and fed 
and nursed as carefully as the Hindoos nurse their broken- 
down animals, we should have fewer of those instances of 
cruel neglect which we sometimes hear of to our sorrow and 
shame ! 

Of the antiquities of India, one of the most notaljle is found 
here in the Caves of Elephanta, which are on an island lying 
off the harbor. We set apart a day to this visit, which we 
made with a couple of Americans and a couple of Englishmen, 
the latter of whom we met first in Bombay, but who were to 
keep us company a large part of our journey around the 
world. We were to embark at the Apollo Bunder, and while 
ivaiting here for our boat ( a steam launch which is used for 
this purpose), a snake-charmer desired to entertain us with 
the dexterous manner in which he handled cobras, taking 
them up like kittens, coiling them round his neck, and toss- 
ing them about in a very playful and affectionate manner. 
No doubt their fangs had been completely extracted before 
he indulged in these endearments. A very cruel form of 
sport was to throw one on the ground, and let it be set up- 
on by a mangoose, a small animal like a weasel, that is not 
poisoned by the bite of serpents, and attacks them without 
hesitation. One of these the man carried in a hag for the 
purpose. As soon as let loose, the little creature flew at the 
snake spitefully, as a terrier dog would at a rat, and seized 
it by the head, and bit it again and again with its sharp t(\eth, 
and left it covered with blood. As we expressed our disgust 
at this cruelty, the juggler assured us that the deceitful rep- 
tile was not dead (in fact as sron as laid on the ground it be- 
gan to wriggle), and that he would take it by the tail *n<I 



THE OAVES OF ELli'TlANTA. 129 

hold it up, and pour water on its head, and it would come all 
right again. He did not say, but no doubt thought, *' and 
will be all ready for torture when the next American or Eng 
lishman comes a'long." 

By this time the steam launch had come round to the Bun- 
der, and we got on board. It was a little mite of a vessel, 
just big enough for the half dozen of us, with a steam boiler not 
much larger than a teapot, that wheezed as if it had the asthma. 
But it did its work well, and away we shot swiftly across the 
beautiful bay. The island of Elephanta is seven miles 
from the city, and takes its name from a gigantic statue of 
an elej^hant that once stood upon its shore. Landing here, 
we found ourselves at the foot of a rocky liill, which we 
mounted by several hundred steps, and stood at the entrance 
of a gigantic cave or cavern cut into the hill-side, with a 
lofty ceiling, pillared like a temple. The main hall, as it 
might be called, runs back a hundred and thirty feet into the 
iolid rock. 

The first thing that struck me on entering was the resem- 
blance to the temples of Egypt. Though in size and extent 
it does not approach the ruins of Karnak, yet one recognizes 
the same massive architecture in this temple, which is liter- 
ally '' cut out of a mountain," its roof the overhanging cliff, 
supported by rows of heavy columns. 

The resemblance to Egypt appears also in the symbol of 
divinity and the objects of worship; the sacred bull in one 
country answering to the sacred cow in the other ; and the 
serpent, the same hooded cobra, rearing its head on the front 
of the Temples of Thebes, and in the Caves of Elephanta. 

At the end of the great hall are the objects of worship in 
three colossal images of Brahma, Yishnu, and Shiva. This is 
the Hindoo Trinity, and the constant recurrence of these fig- 
ures in their mythology shows how the idea of a Trinity per- 
vaded other ancient religions besides our own. It is a ques- 
tion for scholars, whence c^i.me the original conception of this 
6* 



130 THE CAVES OF ELEPHANTA. 

threefold personaKty in the Divine BeiLg, whether from rer 
elation, or from a tradition as old as the human race. 

The fajes are Egyptian — immobile like the Sphinx, with 
no expression of eagerness or desire, but only of calm anc 
eternal repose. Such was the blessedness of the gods, and 
Buch the beatitude sought by their worshippers. 

The age of the Caves of Elephanta is not known, but they 
must be of a great antiquity. For many centuries this rock- 
temple has been the resort of millions of worshippers. 
Generation after generation have the poor people of India 
crossed these waters to this sacred island, and climbed weari- 
ly up this hill as if they were climbing towards heaven. 

That such a religion should have lived for thousands of 
years, and be living still (for the worship of Brahma and 
Vishnu and Shiva is still the religion of India), is a reflec- 
tion that gives one but little hope for the future of the humAS 



CHAPTER XL 

LIATTVO BOMBAY^ — TRAVELLING IN INDIA— ALLA^fABAD^— 

THE MELA. 

We had been in Bombay a week, and began to feel quite 
at home, wben we bad to leave. A man who undertakes to 
go around the world, must not stop too long in the soft 
places. He must be always on the march, or ready to start 
at the tap of the drum. We had a long journey before us, to 
the North of India, and could not linger by the way. So we 
set out just at evening. Much of the travelling in India ia 
at night, to avoid the heat of the day. The sun was setting 
over the waters as we moved slowly out of the station at 
Bombay, and sweeping around the shores, caught our last 
glimpse of the Western sea, and then rushed oflf for the 
mountains. 

" You'll need to take beds with you," said our friends, 
foreseeing that we might have to lie down in rough places. 
So we procured for each of us what is called a resai, a well- 
stuffed coverlet, which answered the purpose of a light mat- 
tress. There are no sleeping-cars in India; but the first- 
class carriages have generally a sofa on either side, which 
may be turned into a sort of couch. On these sofas, having 
first secured a whole compartment, we spread our resais, with 
pillows on which to rest our weary heads, and stretch our- 
selves " to sleep — perchance to dream." But the imagina- 
tion is so busy that sleep comes but slowly. I often lio 
awake for hours, and find a great peace in this constant 
wakefulness. 



132 THE PLAINS OF INDIA. 

It was quite dark when we found ourselves clin^bing the 
Ghauts (what in California would be called the Coast Range), 
a chain of mountains not very high, but which separates the 
coast from the table-land of the interior. As the train 
moved more slowly, we perceived that we were drawing up 
a heavy incline. l^his slow motion soothes one to slumberj 
and at length we closed our eyes, and when the morning 
broke, found that we had passed the summit, and were rush- 
ing on over an open country, not unlike our Western prai- 
ries. These were the Plains of India — a vast plateau, broken 
here and there, but j^reserving its general character across the 
whole peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta, and North to the 
Himalayas. 

In this month of January, these plains are without verdura 
to give them beauty. The trees keep their foliage, and here 
and there is a broad-spreading banyan, or a mango grove, 
with its deejj shade. But we miss the fresh green grass and 
the flowers that come only with the Spring. Landscapes 
which are not diversified in surface by hills and valleys are 
only relieved from monotony by varieties of color. These 
are wanting now, and hence the vast plain is but " a gray 
and melancholy waste " like the sea. We visit India in 
winter because the summer would be too oppressive. But in 
choosing this season, we have to sacrifice that full glory 
when nature comes forth in all the richness of tropical vege- 
tation. It is in the rainy season that the earth bursts sud- 
denly into bloom. Then the dead plain, so bleak and bare, 
in a few days is covered with a carpet of green, and decked 
with innumerable flowers. But there are drawbacks to that 
gorgeous time and that prodigality of nature. With the 
bursting into light of the vegetable world, the insect world 
also ccmes forth. All the insects that buzz and sting, fill the 
Bummer air ; and then the reptile world creeps abroad. Oat 
of millions of holes, wViere they have slept all winter long, 
crawl cobras and other deadly serpents, and all slimy thinga 



PRETTY RAILWAY STATIONS. 133 

On tLe whole, therefore, I am content to see India in its som* 
bre dress, and be spared some other attendants of this tropi- 
cal world. 

Nor is there much animal life to gi\e animation to the 
scene. A few cattle are grazing here and there. Now a 
deer startled looks up, as we go by, or a monkey goes leaping 
across the fields, but not a wild beast of any kind is seen — 
not even a wild-cat or a jackal. As for birds, storks are at 
home in India as much as in Holland. E,ed flamingoes 
haunt 

" The plashy brink, or marge of river wide," 

while on the broad open plain the birds most seen are crows I 
They are very tame, and quite familiar with the rest of the 
animal creation, a favorite perch being the backs of cows or 
bufialoes, where they light without resistance, and make 
themselves at home. They are said to be very useful as scav- 
engers. That is quite possible ; but however useful, they are 
certainly not beautiful. 

In these long stretches of course we pass hundreds of vil- 
lages, but these do not attract the eye nor form a feature in 
the landscape, for the low mud hovels of which they are 
composed hardly rise above the level of the plain. There is 
no church spire to be seen, as from a New England village, 
nor even the dome or minaret of a mosque, for we are not yet 
In the Mohammedan part of India. 

One feature there is which relieves the monotony — the rail- 
way stations are the prettiest I have seen out of England. 
Simply but tastefully built, they are covered with vines and 
flowers, which with irrigation easily grow in this climate in 
the open air at all seasons of the year. The railway adminis- 
tration has offered prizes for the embellishment of stations, 
BO that the natives, who are fond of flowers, and who are 
thus tempted by the hope of reward, plant roses and trail 
vines everywhere, so that the eye is relieved from the glan 



134 GKEAT DISTANCES. 

of the barren plain by resting on a mass of flowers and 
verdure. 

In their internal arrangements, too, these stations are mo* 
dels of comfort, which might furnish an example to us in 
America. Wherever we are to breakfast or lunch (" take 
tiffin ") or dine, we find a table neatly spread, with soft-footed 
Hindoos gliding about to serve us, and with plenty of time 
to eat in peace, without that rushing which makes travel in 
America such a hurry and fatigue. I am often asked about 
the difficulty of travelling in India, to which I answer that 
there is no difficulty, except from the climate, and that is to 
be guarded against by going in the cold season. There are rail- 
roads all over the country, and if Mr. Pullman would only 
introduce his sleeping-cars, made more open to give more 
ventilation in this hot climate, one might travel in India 
with as perfect comfort as in any part of Europe or America. 

But with all these comforts, and all that there is to diveit 
the eye, the way seems long. It is not till one reaches India 
that he comprehends how vast a country it is — not only in 
density of population, but in extent of territory. In " mag- 
nificent distances " it is almost equal to America itself : all 
small ideas are dispelled as soon as one leaves the coast, and 
penetrates into the interior. Our first stage from Bombay 
to Allahabad was 845 miles, which took us not only the first 
night and the day after, but the second night also, so that it 
was not till the morning of the third day that we found our 
selves crossing the long bridge over the Jumna into the city 
which is the great railroad centre in India — a sort of half- 
way station, both on the " trunk line " from Bombay to Cal- 
cutta, and on the line to tlie ISTorth of India. 

By this time we were glad of rest, and willingly exchanged 
our railway carriage for a hotel, where we found the luxury 
of baths, which refreshed us so that in an hour or two we 
were able to come forth "clad in fine linen, white and 
dean," and ride about +o see the sights of the town. 



ALLAHABAD — THE AMERICAN MISSION. 135 

Allahabad is not a city of so mucli historical interest aa 
many others, but it has grown very much within a few yeara 
The railroads have given such an impulse to its business, and 
increase to its population, that it has now 130,000 inhabitants. 
It is the capital of the Northwest Provinces, and thus has a 
political as well as a commercial importance. Owing to its 
position, it has been chosen as a convenient centre for mis- 
sionary operations, and is the seat of one of the best organ- 
ized missions of our Presbyterian Board. Here we met 
some excellent countrymen, who at once took us to their 
hearts and homes : and though reluctant to accept hospital- 
ity, or to trespass on their kindness, yet it was impossible 
to refuse an invitation so cordially given, which took ua 
from a great barrack of a hotel to a refined American home. 
Our Board is fortunate in owning for its mission premises a 
large " compound," an enclosure of many acres, on the banks 
of the Jumna — obtained years ago at a nominal price, and 
which costs now only the small tax of fifty rupees (twenty- 
five dollars) a year. Here under one broad roof were Bev. 
Mr. Kellogg and his family — a wife and four children — and 
Mr. Wynkoop, and Mr. Heyl : Dr. Brodhead had just left 
for America. In the compound stands a neat chapel, in 
which met three years ago the great conference of mission- 
aries of difierent denominations from all parts of India, the 
most memorable gathering of the kind ever held in this 
country. Here there is a service in Hindostanee every Sab- 
bath. In another building is a school of 300 pupils, under 
charge of Mr. Heyl. He has also, to give sufficient variety 
to his occupation, to look after an asylum for the blind, and 
another for lepers. Bev. Messrs. Holcomb and Johnson live 
in other parts of the city, where there is a Printing-press and 
a large Depository for the sale of Bibles and Tracts in the 
different languages of India. All of these missionaries, be- 
sides preaching in churches, preach in the streets and bazaars, 
and spend some months of the year in itinerating through 



136 WOMANLY TACT AND MEDICAL SKILL. 

the villages in a large circuit of country, living in tents, and, 
speaking to tlie people by the roadside, or in groves, or iu 
their houses, wherever they can find them — a work which 
they enjoy greatly. Thus with preaching in city and country^ 
and keeping up their schools, and looking after printing 
presses, writing and publishing books and tracts, they have 
their hands full. 

Kor can I overlook our countrywomen in Allahabad. 
There is here a " Zenana Mission," supported by the so- 
ciety of the good Mrs. Doremus, and also two ladies con 
nected with the Presbyterian Board, one of whom. Miss Wil- 
son, devotes herself to visiting in the Zenanas, while the 
other. Miss Seward, is a physician, practising with great suc- 
cess in many of the best native families, thus rendering a 
physical as well as a spiritual service. She is a niece of the 
late Secretary of State, William H. Seward, who when in 
India paid her a visit, and was so impressed with what she 
was doing so quietly and yet so effectively ; with the access 
which her medical skill and her feminine tact gave her to 
the interior life of the people ; that on his return to America 
he summed up the result of all his observations of missions 
in this brief counsel : '' Make all your missionaries women, 
and give them all a medical education." 

Allahabad has a proud name — the City of God ; but one 
sees not much to render it worthy of that exalted title. It 
is however, in the estimation of the Hindoos a sacred city, 
as it stands at the junction of the Jumna and the Ganges, 
the two sacred rivers of India, which issuing out of the glaciers 
of the Himalayas, hundreds of miles to the north, here unite, 
and flow on in a broader stream, and with an increased 
volume of sanctity. The point of junction is of course a 
very holy place — one of the most sacred in India — and 
draws to it more pilgrims than Mecca. Every year hundreds 
of thousands of pilgrims, come from all parts of India to 
bathe in these ho]y waters. This is the Mela or grea/ 



THE MELA. 137 

religious festival — which was now in progress. The mission- 
aries congratulated us that we had arrived at such an oppor- 
tune moment, as we had thus an opportunity of witnessing 
a spectacle which would show more of Hindooism than any 
other that we could see in India, unless it might be in the 
Qoly city of Benares. 

On a Saturday evening we rode down to the place of the 
encampment, which we found covering a wide sandy plain at 
the junction of two rivers. It was a camp-meeting of mag- 
nificent dimensions. The tents or booths were laid out in 
streets, and sometimes grouped in a hollow square, which for 
the time being was a compact and populous city. As the 
evening was not the hour for bathing, we did not go down 
to the river bank, but strolled among the camps to see the 
people. At every tent fires were burning, and they were 
cooking their food. 

Our friends led the way to the camp of the Sikhs, the 
famous warrior race of the Punjaub, who form a sect by 
themselves, and, strange to say, are not idolators. They 
follow the teachings of a prophet of their own, and like the 
Mohammedans, make it a special virtue, that they do not wor- 
ship idols. But the old instinct is too strong for them, and 
while they do not bow to images, they pay a reverence to 
their sacred book — the writings of their teacher — which is 
little short of idolatry. At several places in their camp was 
something like an altar, a raised platform which was too 
hoi}' for us to ascend, where sat a priest reading from this 
volume, before which all knelt as at the shrine of a saint, 
while they scattered flowers around it as a kind of incense or 
adoration. 

In other parts of the camp men were blowing horns and 
making all sorts of hideous noise, as an intense way of offer- 
ing devotions. This mockery of religion moved the indigna- 
tion of our friends, who opened their mouths boldly in expo- 
sure of such folly and superstition, but they found that those 



138 PHTLOSOPHT OF HINDOOISM. 

whom thej addressed did not shrink from the encotinter, 
Some of them were very keen in argument. They have a 
subtle philosjoj)hy at the bottom of their worship, which they 
explained with a good deal of ingenuity, and tried to illumine 
by apt analogies and illustrations. Like all Hindoos, tliey 
were most liberal in their tolerance of other religions — much 
more so than the Mohammedans — generously conceding thu( 
our religion was best for us, while claiming that theirs was best 
Jvr them. They did not try to convert us, and saw no reasor 
why we should try to convert them. This was the Broad 
Church indeed, large enough for " all sorts and conditions of 
men." They even went further, and paid us not only the 
respect due to men, but to gods. One of the fakirs said to 
us in so many words : '' You are God and I am God ! " This 
tells the whole story in a sentence. Their creed is the 
baldest Pantheism : that God is in everything, and therefore 
everything is God. As all life comes from Him, He is in 
everything that lives — not only in man, but in beasts, and 
birds, and reptiles. All alike are incarnations of a Divine 
life, and hence all alike are fit objects of adoration. Maj, 
can adore himself. He need not carry any burden of soi 
row or guilt ; he need not know repentance or shame ; for 
how can he mourn for impulses which are but the inspira- 
tions of the God in him, or for acts which are but tLo mani- 
festations of the Universal Soul ? 

This was our first close contact with Hindooism, lOut still 
we had not seen the Mela till we had seen the bathing of the 
pilgrims in the Ganges, xvhich was still in reserve. The Fes 
tival lasts a month- — like the Ramadan of the Mohammedans 
— and is regulated by the changes of the moon. The day of 
the new moon, which was last Wednesday, was the great day 
of the feast. On that day there was a grand procession to the 
river, in which there were twenty-five elephants, mouuted 
by their mahants (a po^t of chief priests), with hundi^ds of 



OJ THE HARK OF 'I'llK RIVKK. 139 

fakiiH on f'^>ot, and a vast crowd in all the frenzy of devotion 
On Monday, as the nioon was approaching her first quarter, 
there was likely to be a large concourse, though not equal to 
the fii-st, and we made arrangements to be on hand to witness 
a spectacle such as we had never seen before, and should pro 
bably never see again. Rev. Mr. Holcomb came very early 
in the morning with his carriage, to take us to the riverside. 
As we drove along the roads, we passed thousands who were 
flocking to the place of bathing. Some rode in ox -carts, 
which carried whole families; now and then a mounted horse- 
man dashed by ; while a long row of camels told of a caravan 
that had toiled woaril}' over a great distance, perhaps from 
the foot of the Himalayas or the Vale of Cashmere, to reach 
the sacred spot. But the greater part of those who came 
were on foot, and looked like pilgrims indeed. Most of them 
carried on their shoulders a couple of baskets, in one of 
which was their food, and in the other the ashes of their dead, 
which th(;y had brought from their homes, sometimes 
hundreds of miles, to cast into the sacred waters of the 
Ganges. 

The carriage brought us only to the Bund, near the Eort — 
a huge embankment of earth raised to keep out the waters at 
the time of the annual risings, and which during the past 
year had saved the city from inundation. Here our friends 
had provided an elephant to take us through the crowd. The 
huge creature was waiting for us The mahout who stood 
at his head now mounted in an extraordinary manner. He 
merely stepped in front of the elephant, and took hold of the 
flaps of his ears, and put up a foot on his trunk, which the 
beast raised as lightly as if the man had been a feather, and 
thus tossed his rider upon his head. A word of command 
then brought him to his knees, when a ladder was placed 
against his side, and we climbed to the top, and as he rose 
up, were lifted into the air. An elephant's back is a capita] 
h>okout for observation. It raises one on high, from whic]j 



140 GREAT NT3MBER OF PILGEIMS. 

he can look down upon what is passing below; and tLt 
mighty creature has not much difficulty in making his way 
through even the densest crowd. He moved down the em^ 
bankment a little slowly at first, but once on level ground, 
he strode along with rapid strides ; while we, sitting aloft, 
regarded with amazement the scene before us. 

Indeed it was a marvellous spectacle. Here was a vast 
samp, extending from river to river. Far as the eye could 
reach, the plain was covered with tents and booths. We had 
no means of estimating the number of people present. Mr. 
Kellogg made a rough calculation, as he stood in his preach- 
ing tent, and saw the crowd pouring by. Fixing his eye on 
the tent-pole, with watch in hand, he counted the number 
that passed in a minute, and found it to be a hundred and 
fifty, which would make nine thousand in an hour. If this 
steady flow were kept up for four hours (as it began at day- 
light, and was continued, though with varying volume, 
through the forenoon), it would make thirty-six thousand; 
and reckoning those encamped on the ground at twenty thou- 
sand, the whole number would be over fifty thousand. 

This is a very small number, compared with that present 
at some times. Last Wednesday it was twice as great, and 
some years the multitude — which overflows the country for 
miles, like an inundation of the Ganges — has been estimated 
at hundreds of thousands, and even millions. Every twelve 
years there is a greater Mela than at other times, and the 
concourse assumes extraordinary proportions. This came 
Bix years ago, in 1870. That year it was said that there were 
present 75,000 fakirs alone, and on the great day of the feast 
it was estimated that a million of people bathed in the Gcin- 
ges. So fearful was the crush that they had to be marshalled 
by the police, and marched down to the river by ten or twenty 
thousand at a time, and then across a bridge of boats to the 
other side, returning by another way, so as to prevent a coL 
lision of the entering and returoing mass, that might have 



tHB FAKIRS — DISGUSTING OBJECTS. 141 

occasioned a fearful loss of life. That year it was estimated 
that not less than two millions of pilgrims visited the M61a. 
Allowing for the common exaggeration in estimating multi- 
tudes, there is no doubt whatever that the host of pilgrims 
here has often been " an exceeding great army." 

I could not but look with pity at the ignorant creatures 
flocking by, but the feeling of pity changed to disgust at the 
sight of the priests by whom they were misled. Everywhere 
were fakirs sitting on the ground, receiving the reverence of 
the people. More disgusting objects I never looked upon, 
not even in an asylum for the insane. They were almost 
naked ; their hair, which they suffer to grow long, had become 
tangled and knotted, and was matted like swamp grass, and 
often bound round with thick ropes ; and their faces smeared 
with filth. The meagerness of their clothing is one of the 
tokens of their sanctity. They are so holy that they do not 
need to observe the ordinary rules of decency. Yet these 
filthy creatures are regarded not only with reverence, but 
ilmost worshipped. Men— and women also — stoop down 
and kiss their feet. On Wednesday some three hundred of 
these fakirs marched in procession absolutely naked, while 
crowds of women prostrated themselves before them, and 
kissed the very ground over which they had passed. One is 
amazed that such a disgusting exhibition was not prevented 
by the police. Yet it took place under the guns of an Eng- 
lish fort, and — greatest shame of all — instead of being sup- 
pressed, was accompanied and protected by the police, which, 
though composed of natives, wore the uniform, and obeyed 
the orders, of Christian England ! There are not many 
sights which make one ashamed of the English government 
in India, but surely this is one of them.* 

* That we may not do injustice, we add the excuse which is given, 
wrhich is, that such attendance of the police is necessary to prevent 
a general melee and bloodshed. It seems that these fakirs, holy as 
they ard, belong to different sects, between which there aie deadly 



142 THB BATHING IN THE GANGES. 

How such. *' brute beasts " can have any respect or influ 
ence, is one of the mysteries of Hindooism. But the coiU' 
mon people, ignorant and superstitious, think these men have 
a power that is more than human, and fear to incur their dis- 
pleasure. They dread their curses : for these holy men have 
a fearful power of imprecation. Wherever they stroll 
through the country, no man dares to refuse them food or 
shelter, lest one of their awful curses should light upon his 
nead, and immediately his child should die, or disaster should 
overtake his house. ^ 

But let us pass on to the banks of the river, where the 
crowd is already becoming very great. To go among them, 
we get down from our elephant and walk about. Was there 
ever such a scene — men, women, and children, by tens of 
thousands, in all stages of nakedness, pressing towards the 
sacred river? The men are closely shaved, as for every hair 
of their heads they gain a million of years in Paradise ! Some 
had come in boats, and were out in the middle of the stream, 
from which they could bathe. But the greater part were 
along the shore. The water was shallow, so that they could 
wade in without danger ; but to afford greater security, lines 
of boats were drawn around the places of bathing, to keep 
them from drowning and from suicide. 

It would not have been easy to make our way through such 
a crowd, had not the native police, with that respect for 
Englishmen which is seen everywhere in India, cleared the 
way for us. Thus we came down to the water's edge, passing 
through hundreds that weve coming up dripping from the 
water, and other hundreds that were pressing in. They were 
of all ages and sexes. It was hard to repress our disgust at 
the voluntary debasement of men who might know better, bui 



feuds, and if left to themselves unrestrained, when brought int« 
olose contact in a procession, they might tear each other in piecea 
But this would be no great loss to the vorld. 



tHE BATHING IN THE GANGES. 14'i 

irith these there were some wretched objects, who could only 
excite our pity — poor, haggard old women, who had dragged 
themselves to this spot, and children borne on their mothers' 
shoulders I In former times many infanta were thrown into 
the Ganges. This was the most common form of infanticide. 
But this practice has been stopped by the strong hand of the 
government. And now they are brought here only to *' wash 
and be cleansed." Even the sick were carried in palanquins, 
to be dipped in the healing waters ; and here and there one 
who seemed ready to die was brought, that he might breathe 
his last in sight of the sacred river. 

I observed a great number of flags flying from tall poles in 
different parts of the ground, which made the place look like 
a military encampment. These marked the headquarters of 
the men who get up these Melas, and in so doing contrive to 
unite business with religion. During the year they peram- 
bulate the country, drumming up pilgrims. A reputation for 
sanctity is a stock in trade, and they are not too modest to 
set forth their own peculiar gifts, and invite those who come 
to the holy water to repair to their shop, where they can be 
** put through " in the shortest time, and for the least money. 
This money-making feature is apparent in all the arrange- 
ments of these pious pilgrimages. 

In keeping with these coarser features of the scene, was 
the presence of dancing girls, who gathered a group around 
them close to the bathing places, and displayed their in- 
decent gestures on the banks of the holy river, to those who 
had just engaged in what they cousidered an act of moral 
purification. 

In other parts of the camp, retired from the river, was 
carried on the business of " religious instruction." Here 
and there pundits, or learned Brahmins, surrounded by large 
companies, chiefly of women, were reading from the Shasters^ 
which, considering that they got over the ground with great 
velocity, could hardly be very edifying to their hearers. This 



144 UNITING BUSINESS WlfH RELIGION. 

mattered little, however, as these sacred books aii in Sau 
Bcrit, which to the people is an unknown tongue. 

I was glad to see that these blind leaders of the blind did 
not have it all their own way. Nsar by were the preaching- 
tents of several missionaries, who also drew crowds, to whonj 
they spoke of a better religion. Among them was Rev. Mr 
Macombie, who is a famous preacher. He is a native of 
India, and is not only master of their language, but familial 
with their ideas. He knows all their arguments and theii 
objectioDS, and if a hearer interrupts him, wliether a Hindoo, 
or a Mohammedan, he is very apt to get a shot which makes 
him sink back in the crowd, glad to escape without further 
notice. Whether this preaching converts many to Christian- 
ity, there can be no doubt that it diffuses a widespread sense 
of the folly of these M61as, and to this as one cause may be 
ascribed the falling-off in the concourse of pilgrims, who were 
formerly counted by millions and are now only by hundreds 
of thousands. 

While " religion " thus went on vigorously, business wag 
not forgotten. In the remoter parts of the camp it was turned 
into a market-place. A festival which brings together hun- 
dreds of thousands of fteople, is an occasion not to be lost for 
traffic and barter. So the camp becomes a huge bazaar (a 
vast fair, such as one may see in America at a cattle show or 
a militia muster), with streets of shops, so that, after one hag 
performed his religious duties, as he comes up from the hoi} 
waters and returns to " the world," he can gratify his pride 
and vanity by purchasing any quantity of cheap jewelry. 

There are shops for the sale of idols. We could have 
bought a lovely little beast for a few pence. They are as 
" cheap as dirt ; " in fact, they are often made of dirt. As wa 
Btood in front of one of the shops, we saw a group rolling up 
a little ball of mud, as children make mud pies ; who re 
quested a lady of our party to step one side, as her shadow 
falling on this holy object, polluted it ! 



A FIRE IN THE OAMP. 14£ 

It is hard to believe that even the most ignorant and de 
graded of men can connect such objects with any idea ol 
sacredness or religion. And yet the wretched-looking crea- 
lures seemed infatuated with their idolatries. To bathe in 
the Ganges washes away their sins. It opens to them the 
gates of paradise. Such value do they attach to it that even 
death in its sacred waters is a privilege. Formerly suicides 
were very frequent here, till they were stopped by the Gov- 
ernment. Fanaticism seems to destroy the common sympa- 
thies of life. Last Wednesday, while the great procession 
was in progress, a fire broke out in one of the booths. As 
they are made of the lightest material it caught like tinder, 
and spread so rapidly that in a few minutes a whole camp 
was in a blaze. But for the presence of mind and energy of 
a few English soldiers from the Fort who were on the 
ground, and who seized an engine, and played upon the 
burning wood and thatch, the entire encampment might 
have been destroyed, involving an appalling loss of life. As 
it was, some thirty perished, almost all women. Mr. Kel- 
logg came up in time to see their charred and blackened re- 
mains. Yet this terrible disaster awakened no feeling of 
compassion for its victims. They were accounted rather 
favored beings to have perished in such a holy spot. Thus 
does the blindness of superstition extinguish the ordinary 
feelings of humanity. 

Weary and heart-sick at such exhibitions of human folly, 
we mounted our elephant to leave the ground. The noble 
beast, who had waited patiently for us (and was duly re- 
warded), now seemed as if he could stand it no longer, and 
taking us on his back, strode oif as if disgusted with the 
whole performance, and disdaining the society of such de- 
based human creatures. 

This Mela, with other things which I have seen, has quite 
destroyed any illusions which I may have had in regard 
to Hindooism. In coming to India, one chief object was to 
7 



146 HENDOOISM SUPPOETED BY 1<'AL8EHCM)D. 

Btudj its religion. I had read mucli of " the mild Hiadoo * 
and " the learned Brahmin," and I asked myself, May na 
their religion have some elements of good ? Is it not better al 
least than no religion ? But the more I study it the worsf 
it seems. I cannot understand the secret of its power. I car 
see a fascination in Bomanism, and even in Mohammedanism. 
The mythology of the Greeks had in it many beautiful crea- 
tions of the imagination. But the gods of the Hindoos are 
but deified beasts, and their worship, instead of elevating men 
intellectually or morally, is an \inspeakable degradation. 

Hindooism is a mountain of lies. It is a vast and mon 
strous system of falsehood, kept in existence mainly for the 
sake of keeping up the power of the Brahmins. Their ca- 
pacity for deceit is boundless, as is that of the lower castes 
for being deceived. Of this I have just had a specimen. In 
the fort here at Allahabad is a subterranean passage which is 
held in the highest veneration, as it is believed that here a 
river flows darkly underground to join the sacred waters of 
the Jumna and the Ganges, and here — prodigy of nature — is a 
sacred tree, which has been here (they tell us) for hundreds 
of years, and though buried in the heart of the earth, still it 
lives. It is true it does show some signs of sap and green- 
ness. But the mystery is explained when the fact comes out 
that the tree is changed every year. The sergeant-major^ 
who has been here four years, told me that he had himself 
given the order three times, which admitted the party into the 
Fort at midnight to take away the old stump and put in a 
fresh tree ! He said it was done in the month of February 
BO that with the first opening of spring it was ready to bloom 
afresh ! How English ofiicers can reconcile it with their 
honor to connive at such a deception — even though it be to 
please the Brahmins— I leave them to explain. But the fact, 
thus attested, is sufficient to show the unfathomablo lying of 
this ruling caste of India, and the immeasurable cvediUity of 
their disciples. 



ITS IMMORALITY. 141 

A religion that is founded on imposture, and supported by 
falsehood, cannot bear the fruits of righteousness. In the 
essence of things truth is allied to moral purity. Its very 
nature is " sweetness and light." But craft and deceit in 
sacred things breed a vicious habit of defending by false rea- 
soning what an uncorrupted conscience would reject, and the 
holy name of religion, instead of being a sacrament of good, 
becomes a sacrament of evil, which is used to cover and con. 
secrate loathsome immoralities. Thus falsehood works like 
poison in the blood, and runs through every vein till tkt 
whole moral being is spotted with leprosj. 



CHAPTER XII. 

AQUAf — ^VISIT OP THE PRINCE OF WALES — PALACE OF THJ 

GREAT MOGUL — THE TAJ. 

We left Allahabad at midnight, and by noon of the next 
day were at Agra, in the heart of the old Mogul Empire. Aa 
we approached from the other side of the Jumna, we saw be • 
fore us wha*; seemed a royal castle, of imposing dimensions, 
strongly fortified, with walls and moat, like one of the strong- 
holds of the Middle Ages, a castle on the Rhine, built for a 
double purpose, half palace and half fortress. As we crossed 
*he long bridge flags were flying in honor of the Prince of 
'T^ales, who had arrived the week before. His entry into this 
!>ld Mogul capital was attended with a display* of magnifi- 
cence worthy of the days of Aurungzebe. At the station he was 
aaet by a great number of Hajahs, mounted on elephants rich- 
ly caparisoned, of which there were nearly two hundred in 
the procession, with long suites of retainers, who escorted 
him to his camp outside of the city. Kev. Mr. Wynkoop 
(who came on a few days before to witness the fetes, and was 
staying with a friend who had a tent quite near to that of 
the Prince), met us at the station and took us out to the 
Royal camp. It was indeed a beautiful sight. The tents, 
many of which were very large, were laid off in an oblong 
square, with the marquee of the Prince at the end, in front 
of which floated the royal standard of England. The rest of 
the camp was laid off in streets. On the outskirts of the 
Maidan (or parade ground) were the military selected from 
different corps of the Indian army. Some of the native t7D0|)f 



THE PRINCE OF WALES AT AGRA. 149 

in drill and discipline were equal to the Englisli. The Pun- 
jaubees especially were magnificent fellows. Tall aad athletic 
in figure, they are splendid horsemen, so that a regiment of 
Punjaubee (or Sikh) cavalry is one of the sights of India, 
English artillery manned the guns with which they saluted 
the native princes according to their rank, as they came to 
pay their respects. Here, on the Saturday before, the Prince 
had held a grand Durbar, to which the E-ajahs came riding on 
elephants, and each with a body-guard of cavalry, mounted 
sometimes on horses and sometimes on camels, making alto- 
gether such a scene of barbaric splendor as could not be wit 
nessed in any country in the world but India. 

The Prince was absent from the camp, having gone off s 
day or two before to pay a visit to the Maharajah of Gwalior, 
but an hour later, while we were making a first visit to the 
Taj, we heard the guns which announced his return. A day 
or two after we saw him starting for Jeypore, when, although 
he drove off in a carriage very quietly, the camels and ele- 
phants that went rolling along the different roads, as we drove 
out once more to the camp, told of the brilliant pageant 
that was ended. 

This visit of the Prince of Wales is a great event. It 
has excited a prodigious interest in official and military cir- 
cles. His progress through the country has been in a blaze 
of processions and illuminations. To himself it must have 
been very gratifying. As he said, " It had been the dream 
of his life to visit India." It was a matter of political wis- 
dom that he should know it, not only through others but by 
personal observation- Mr. Disraeli, in proposing it in Par- 
liament, said justly that " travel was the best education for 
princes." It was well that the future King of England, 
should make himself acquainted with the great Empire that 
he was one day to rule. But whether this royal visit will 
result in any real benefit to India to correspond with the 
enormous expense it has involved, is a question which J 



150 GOOD EFFECIS OF HIS VISIT TO INDIA. 

hear a good deal discussed among Englislimen. In some 
ways it cannot fail to do good. It has presented to 
the people of India an impersonation of sovereignty, a 
visible representative of that mighty power, the British 
Empire. It has conciliated the native princes, who have 
been greatly pleased by the frank and manly courtesy of 
their future sovereign. In the art of courtesy he is a mas- 
ter. History will give him this rank among princes, that he 
was not greatj but gracious. This is a kingly virtue which it 
was well to have exhibited in the person of one of such ex- 
alted rank, the more as English officials in India are charged 
with showing, often in the most. offensive way, the insolence 
of power. Perhaps it was on this very account that he took 
such pains to show a generous and even chivalrous courtesy 
to natives of rank, even while he did not hesitate, so I was 
told by Englishmen, to " snub " his own countrymen. Such a 
bearing has certainly commanded respect, and given him a 
personal popularity. But it has not converted the people to 
loyalty any more than to Christianity. They run to see the 
parades, the Rajahs, and the elephants. But as to its exciting 
any deeper feeling in them, no Englishman who has lived 
long in the country will trust to that for a moment. Even 
though English rule be for their own safety and protection, 
yet their prejudices of race and religion are stronger than 
even considerations of interest. It is a curious illustration 
of the power of caste that the very Kajalis who entertain the 
Prince of Wales with such lavish hospitality, who build 
palaces to receive him, and spread before him sumptuous 
banquets, still do not themselves sit down at the table ; they 
will not even eat with their Royal guest ; and count his touch 
of food, and even his shadow falling upon it, a pollution ! 
Such a people are not to be tr'\sted very far beyond the range 
of English guns. The security of English rule in India i? 
not to be found in any fancied sentiment of loyalty, which 
4oes not exist, but in the overwhelming proof of Englisl 



THE GREAT MOGUL. 151 

power. Britisli possession is secured by the well-armed fort« 
rosses »vhicli overlook every great city, and wliicli could lay 
it in ruins in twenty-foar hours. The rule that was obtained 
by the sword, must be held by the sword. 

But the interest of Agra is not in the present, but in the 
past. There are few chapters in history more interesting 
than that of the Mohammedan invasion of India — a history 
dating back to the Middle Ages, but culminating about the 
time that Columbus discovered the New World. Those 
fierce warriors, who had ravaged Central Asia, had long 
made occasional incursions into India, but it was not till the 
beginning of the sixteenth century that they became complete 
masters of the country, and the throne was occupied by a 
descendant of the house of Tamerlane. 

The dominion thus introduced into India was an exotic, 
but like other products of the North, transplanted into a 
tropical clime, it blossomed and flowered anew. The Moguls 
(a corruption of Mongols) had all the wealth of Ormus and of 
Ind at their feet, and they lavished it with Oriental prodi- 
gality, displaying a royal state which surpassed the grandeur 
of European courts. 

The Great Mogul ! What power there is in a name ! Ever 
since I was a child, I had read about the Great Mogul, until 
there was a magic in the very word. To be sure, I had not 
much idea who or what he was ; but perhaps this vagueness 
itself added to the charm in my imagination. He ivas an 
Oriental potentate, living somewhere in the heart of Asia, in 
a pomp and glory quite unknown among barbarians of the 
West. He was a sort of Haroun al Raschid, whose masjnifi- 
cence recalled the scenes of the Arabian Nights. Even 
more, he was like the Grand Lama, almost an object of wor- 
ship. To keep up the illusion, he withdrew from observation 
into his Palace, where he sat like a god, rare y seen by mor- 
tal eyes, except by his court, and dwelling in unajriroacb 
&ble splendor. 



152 FORT AND PALACE OF AGRA. 

Aud now here I was in the very Palace of the G reat Mogul 
walking through the glittering halls where he held his goi 
geous revelries, entering the private apartments of his harem, 
and looking out of the very windows from which they looked 
down upon the valley of the Jumna. 

The Palace is in the Citadel of Agra, for those old Emper- 
ors took good care to draw fortified walls around their palaces. 
The river front presents a wall sixty feet high, perhaps half 
a mile long, of red sandstone, which heightens by contrast 
the effect of the white marble pavilions, so graceful and airy- 
like, that rise above it. The Fort is of great extent, but it 
is the mere casket of the jewels within, the Palace and the 
Mosque, in which one may see the infinite beauty of that 
Saracenic architecture, which is found nowhere in Europe in 
such perfection, except in the Alhambra. The Mohammedan 
conquerors of India, like the same conquerors of Spain, had 
gorgeous tastes in architecture. Both aimed at the grandeur 
of effect produced by great size and massive construction, 
combined with a certain lightness and airiness of detail, 
which give it a peculiar delicacy and grace. Here the im- 
agination flowers in stone. The solid marble is made to 
bend in vines and wreaths that run along the walls. The 
spirit of Oriental luxury finds expression in cool marble 
halls, and open courts, with plashing fountains, where the 
monarch could dally with the beauties of his court. In all 
these things the life of the Great Mogul did not differ from 
that of the Moorish Kings of Spain. 

The glory of Agra dates from the reign of Akbar the Great 
who made it the capital of the Mogul Empire. He built the 
Fort, with its long line of castellated walls, rising above the 
river, and commanding the country around. Within this 
enclosure were buildings like a city, and oj)en spaces with 
canals, among which were laid out gardens, blooming with 
flowers. Ou the river side of the Fort was a lofty terrace^ 
an which stood the Palace, built of the purest marble. I* 



THE PEABL MOSQUE. 153 

flras divided into a number of pavilions w^hose while walla 
and gilded domes glittered in the sun. Passing from one 
pavilion fco another over tessellated pavements, we enter 
apartments rich in mosaics and all manner of precious stones. 
Along the walls are little kiosks or balconies, the windows 
of which are half closed by screens of marble, which yet are 
so exquisitely carved and pierced as to seem like veils of 
lace, drawn before the flashing eyes that looked out from be- 
hind them. Straying through these rich halls, one cannot 
but reproduce the scenes of three centuries ago, when Akbar 
ruled here in the midst of his court ; when the beauties of hia 
seraglio, gathered from all the East, sported in these gardens, 
and looked out from these latticed windows. 

Of equal beauty with the palace is the mosque. It is call- 
ed the Pearl Mosque, and a pearl indeed it is, such is the 
simplicity of outline, and such the exquisite and almost tender 
grace in every arch and column. Said Bishop Heber ; " This 
spotless sanctuary, showing such a pure spirit of adoration, 
made me, a Christian, feel humbled when I considered that 
no architect of our religion had ever been able to produce any- 
thing equal to this temple of Allah." 

But these costly buildings have but little use now. The 
Mosque is still here, but few are the Moslems who come to 
pray ; and the palace is tenantless. The great Moguls are 
departed. Their last descendant was the late Eling of Delhi, 
who was compromised in the Great Mutiny, and passed the 
rest of his life as a state prisoner. Not a trace remains here 
nor at Delhi of the old Imperial grandeur. Yet once in a long 
while these old palaces serve a purpose to entertain some 
royal guest. Last week they were fitted up for a fete given 
to the Prince of Wales, when the stately apartments were 
turned into reception rooms and banqueting halls. It was a 
very brilliant spectacle, as the British officers in their uni- 
forms mingled with the native princes glittering with dia- 
leiorids. But it would seem as if the old Moguls must turn 



164 THE VERSAILLES OF THE GREAT MOaULS. 

in their coffins to hear this sound of revelry in their vacant 
palaces, and to see the places where the Mohammedan ruled 
BO long now filled by unbelievers. 

Perhaps one gets a yet stronger impression of the magnifi 
cence of the Great Mogul in a visit to the Summer Palace of 
Akbar at Futtehpore-Sikri, so called from two villages em- 
braced in the royal retreat. This was the Yersailles of the 
old Moguls. It is over twenty miles from Agra, but start- 
ing early we were able to drive there and return the same 
day. The site is a rocky hill, which might have been chosen 
for a fortress. The outer wall enclosing it, with the two vil- 
lages at its foot, is nine miles in extent. The buildings were 
on a scale to suit the wants of an Imperial Court — the plateau 
of the hiJl being laid off in a vast quadrangle, surrounded by 
palaces, and zenanas for the women of the Imperial house- 
hold, and mosques and tombs. Perhaps the most exquisite 
building of all is a tomb in white marble — the resting place 
of Selim, a Moslem saint, a very holy shrine to the true be- 
lievers; although the Mosque is far more imposing, since 
before it stands the loftiest gateway in the world. Around 
the hill are distributed barracks for troops, and stables for 
horses and camels and elephants. The open court in the 
centre of all these buildings is an esplanade large enough to 
draw up an army. Here they show the spot where Akbar 
usCv' to mount his elephant, and here his troops filed before 
him, or subject princes came with long processions to pay him 
homage. 

As this palace was built for a summer retreat, everything 
is designed for coolness ; pavilions, covered overhead, screen 
from the sun, while open at the sides, they catch whatever 
BTimraer air may be stirring. In studying the architecture 
of the Moors or the Moguls, one cannot but perceive, that in 
its first inception it has been modelled after forms familiar 
to their nomadic ancestors. The tribes of Central Asia ^rst 
dwelt in tents, and when they came to have more fixed haM 



THE VERSAILLEri OF THE GREAT MOQtTLS. 155 

jations built of wood or stone, they reproduced the same fornr 
«o that the canvas tent became the marble pavilion — just as 
the builders of the Gothic cathedrals caught the lines of their 
mighty arches from the interlacing branches of trees which 
made the lofty aisles of the forest. So the tribes of the desert, 
accustomed to live in tents, when endowed with empire, fall- 
ing heir to the riches of the Indies, still preserved the style 
of their former life, and when they could no longer dwell in 
tents, dwelt in tabernacles. These palaces are almost all con- 
structed on this type. There is one building of singular 
structure, five stories high, which is a series of terraces, all 
open at the side. 

If we believe the tales of travellers and historians, noth- 
ing since the days of Babylon has equalled the magnificence of 
the Great Mogul. But magnificence in a sovereign generall}^ 
means misery in his subjects. The wealth that is lavished on 
the court is wrung from the people. So it is said to have been 
with some of the successors of Akbar. The latest historian 
of Mussulman India* says : " They were the most shameless 
tyrants that ever disgraced a throne. Mogul administration 
.... was a monstrous system of oppression and extortion, 
which none but Asiatics could have practised or endured. 
Justice was a mockery. Magistrates could always be bribed ; 
false witnesses could always be bought .... The Hindoos 
were always in the hands of grinding task-masters, foreigners 
who knew not how to pity or to spare." 

But Akbar was not merely a magnificent Oriental poten- 
tate — he was truly a great king. A Mohammedan himself, 
he was free from Moslem fanaticism and bigotry. Those col 
querors of India had a difficult task (which has vexed their 
English successors after two centuries), to rule a people of a 
different race and a different religion. It was harder for the 
Moslem than for the Christian, because his creed was mors 



* Mr. Talboys Wheeler. 



166 AKBAB THE GREAT. 

intolerant ; it made it his duty to destroy those whom h* 
could not convert. The first law of the Koran was the ex 
termination of idolatry, but the Hindoos were the grossest of 
idolaters. How then could a Mohammedan ruler establish 
his throne without exterminating the inhabitants? But the 
Moslems — like many other conquerors — learned to bear the 
ills which they could not remove. Necessity taught them 
the wisdom of toleration. In this humane policy they were 
led by the example of Akbar, who, though a Mussulman, 
was not a bigot, and thought it a pity that subtle questions 
of belief should divide inhabitants of the same country. He 
admitted Hindoos to a share in his government, and endeav- 
ored by complete tolerance to extinguish religious hatreds. 
He had even the ambition to be a religious reformer, and 
tried to blend the old faith with the new, and to make an 
eclectic religion by putting together the systems of Zoroaster, 
of the Brahmins, and of Christianity, while retaining some of 
the Mohammedan forms. But he could not convert even his 
own Hindoo wives, of whom he had one or two, and built a 
house for each, in Hindoo architecture, with altars for idol 
worship. What impression then could he make outside of 
the circle of his court ? 

But greatness commands our homage, even though it 
sometimes undertakes tasks beyond human power. Akbar, 
though he could not inspire others with his own spirit of 
justice and toleration, deserves a place in history as the 
greatest sovereign that ever sat in the seat of the Great Mo- 
gul. And therefore, when in the Fort at Agra I stood be- 
side the large slab of black marble, on which he was wont to 
sit to administer justice to his people, it was with the same 
feeling that one would seek out the oak of Vincennes, undei 
which St. Louis sat for the same purpose ; and at Secundra, 
a few miles from Agra, we visited his tomb, as on anothei 
continent we had visited the trmb of Frederick the Great 
and of Napoleon. 



THE JAJ. 157 

But the jewel of India — the Koh-i-noor of its beauty —i? 
the TaJj the tomb built by the Emperor Shah Jehaii, the 
grandson of Akbar, for his wife, whom he loved with an 
idolatrous affection, and on her deathbed promised to rear 
to her memory such a mausoleum as had never been erected 
before. To carry out his purpose he gathered architects 
from all countries, who rivalled each other in the extrav- 
agance and costliness of their designs. The result was a 
structure which cost fabulous sums of money (the whole 
empire being placed under contribution for it, as were the 
Jews for the Temple of Solomon), and employed twenty 
thousand workmen for seventeen years. The building thus 
erected is one of the most famous in the world — like the 
Alhambra or St. Peter's — and of which enthusiastic travel- 
lers are apt to say that it is worth going around the world 
to see. This would almost discourage the attempt to de- 
scribe it, but I will try and give some faint idea of its mar- 
vellous beauty. 

But how can I convey to others what is but a picture 
in my memory ? Descriptions of architecture are apt to 
be vague unless aided by pictorial illustrations. Mere 
figures and measurements are dry and cold. The most I 
shall aim at will be to give a general (but I hope not in- 
distinct) impression of it. For this let us approach it 
gradually. 

It stands on the banks of the Jumna, a mile below the 
Fort at Agra. As you approach it, it is not exposed abrupt- 
ly to vieWj but is surrounded by a garden. You enter under 
a lofty gateway, and before you is an avenue of cypresses a 
thiT i of a mile long, whose dark foliage is a setting for a form 
of dazzling whiteness at the end. That is the Taj. It 
stands, not on the level of your eye, but on a double terrace ; 
the first, of red sandstone, twenty feet high, and a thousand 
feet broad ; at the extremities of which stand two mosques, 
of the same dark stone, facing each other. Midway between 



158 AIRY LIGHTNESS AND ORAOE. 

rises the second terrace, of marble, fifteen feet higl, 'Jid 
three hrndred feet square, on the corners of which stand fou2 
marble minarets. In the centre of all, thus " reared in air," 
stands the Taj. It is built of marble — no other material 
ihan this of pure and stainless white were fit for a puipos« 
so sacred It is a hundred and fifty feet square (or rather 
it is eight-sided, since the corners are truncated), and sur- 
mounted by a dome, which rises nearly two hundred feet 
above the pavement below. 

These figures rather belittle the Taj, or at least disappoint 
those who looked for great size. There are many larger 
buildings in the world. But that which distinguishes it 
&:om all others, and gives it a rare and ideal beauty, is the 
anion of majesty and grace. This is the peculiar effect of 
Saracenic architecture. The slender columns, the springing 
arches, the swelling domes, the tall minarets, all combine to 
give an impression of airy lightness, which is not destroyed 
even when the foundations are laid with massive solidity. 
But it is in the finish of their structures that they excelled 
all the world. Bishop Heber said truly : " They built like 
Titans and finished like jewellers." This union of two 
opposite features makes the beauty of the Taj. While its 
walls are thick and strong, they are pierced by high arched 
windows which relieve their heaviness. Vines and ara- 
besques running over the stone work give it the lightness of 
foliage, of trees blossoming with flowers. In the interioi 
there is an extieme and almost feminine grace, as if here 
the strength of man would pay homage to the delicacy of 
woman. Enclosing the sacred spot is a screen of marble, 
carved into a kind of fretwork, and so pure and white that 
light shines through it as through alabaster, falling softly 
on that which is within. The Emperor, bereaved of hia 
wife, lavished riches on her very dust, casting precious 
stones upon hor tomb, as if he were placing a string of 
y^earla around her neck. It is cverrun witli vines »nd 



LAST VIEW BY MOONLIGHT. 159 

flowers, cat in stone, and set with onyx and jasper and 
lapis lazuli, carnelians and turquoises, and chaicedocies and 
sapphires. 

But the body rests in the crypt below. We descend a fe\f 
Bteps and stand by the very sarcophagus in which all that 
koveliness is enshrined. Another sarcophagus contains the 
body of her husband. Their tombs were covered with fresh 
flowers, a perpetual tribute to that love which was so strong 
even on the throne ; to those who were thus united in life, 
and in death are not divided. 

Here sentiment comes in to affect our sense of the beauty 
of the place. If it were not for the touching history con- 
nected with it, I could not agree with those who pronounce 
the Taj the most beautiful building in the world. Merely as 
a building, it does not " overcome " me so much as another 
marble structure — the Cathedral of Milan. I could not say 
with Bishop Heber that the mosques of Islam are more 
beautiful, or more in harmony with the spirit of devotion, 
than Christian churches or cathedrals. But the Taj is 
not a mosque, it is a tomb — a monument to the dead. And 
that gives it a tender interest, which spiritualizes the cold 
marble, and makes it more than a building — a poem and a 
dream. 

This impression grew upon us the more we saw it. On 
our last night in Agra we drove there to take our last view 
by moonlight. All slept peacefully on the banks of the 
Jumna. Slowly we walked through the long avenue of dark 
cypresses, that stood like ranks of mourners waiting for the 
dead to pass, their tops waving gently in the night wind, as 
if breathing a soft requiem over the departed. Mounting 
the terrace we stocd again before the Taj, rising into the 
calm blue heavens. A few nights before the Prince of Wales 
had been here, and the interior had been illuminated. Aa 
we had not seen it then, we had engaged attendants with 
blue lights, who gave us an illumination of our own. It 



l60 THE TAJ BY MOOJS LIGHT. 

was a weird scene as these swarthy natives, with ikaked 
arms, held aloft their torches, whose blue flames, flaring and 
flickering, cast a spectral light upward into the dim vault 
above. 

To add to the ghostly effect, we heard whispers above us, 
lUB if there were unseen witnesses. It was the echo of our 
own voices, but one starts to hear himself in such a place. 
The dome is a whispering gallery ; and as we stood beside 
the tomb, and spoke in a low voice (not to disturb the sleep 
of the dead), our words seemed to be repeated. Any sound 
at the tomb — a sigh of pity, or a plaintive melody — rising 
upward, comes back again, — faintly indeed, yet distinctly and 
sweetly — as if the very air trembled in sympathy, repeating 
the accents of love and of despair, or as if unseen spirits 
were floating above, and singing the departing soul to its 
rest. 

Then we went down once more into the crypt below, 
where sleeps the form of the beautiful empress, and of Shah 
Jehan, who built this monument for her, at her side. The 
place was dark, and the lights in the hands of the attendants 
cast but a feeble glimmer, but this deep shadow and silence 
suited the tenor of our thoughts, and we lingered, reluctant 
to depart from the resting-place of one so much beloved. 

As we came out the moon was riding high overhead, flood- 
ing the marble pile with beauty. Round and round we 
walked, looking up at arch and dome and minaret. At such 
an hour the Taj was so pale and ghostlike, that it did not 
seem like a building reared by human hands, but to have 
grown where it stood — like a night-blooming Cereus, rising 
slowly in the moonlight— lifting its domes and pinnacles 
(like branches growing heavenward) towards that world 
which is the home of the love whish it was to preserve in 
perpetual memory. 

With such thoughts we kept our eyes fixed on that glitter 
ing vision, %s if we feared that even as we gazed it might 



THE TAJ BY MOONLIGHT. 161 

vanish out of our sight. Below us the Jumna, flowing silent- 
ly, seemed like an image of human life as it glided by. And 
so at last we turned to depart, and bade farewell to the Taj, 
feeling that we should never look on it again ; but hoping 
that it might stand for ages to tell its history of faithful love 
to future generations. Flow on, sweet Jumna, by the mar- 
ble walls, reflecting the moonbeams in thy placid breast ; and 
in thy gentle murmurs whispering evermore of Love and 
Death, and L>ve that cannot die I 



CHAPTER XIII. 

DXLHI ^A MOHAMMEDAN FESTIVAL — SCENES IN THE MUTllTt, 

Delhi is the Rome of the old Mogul Empire. Agra was 
the capital in the time of Akbar, but Delhi is an older city. 
It had a history before the Moguls. It is said to have been 
destroyed and rebuilt seven times, and thus is overspread 
with the ashes of many civilizations. Its very ruins attest 
its ancient greatness. The plain around Delhi is like the 
Campagna around Rome — covered with the remains of pal- 
aces and mosques, towers and tombs, which give credit to the 
historical statement that the city was once thirty miles in cir- 
cuit, and had two millions of inhabitants. This greatness 
tempted the spoiler. In 1398 it was plundered by Tamer- 
lane ; in 1525 it was taken by his descendant, Baber, the 
founder of the Mogul dynasty. Akbar made Agra, 112 
miles to the south, his capital ; but Shah Jehan, the monarch 
of magnificent tastes, who built the Taj, attracted by the 
mighty memories of this Rome of Asia, returned to Delhi, 
and here laid the foundations of a city that was to exceed all 
the capitals that had gone before it, if not in size, at least in 
splendor. 

That distinction it still retains among the cities of India, 
Though not a tenth of old Delhi in size, it has to-day over 
160,000 inhabitants. It is surrounded by walls seven miles 
in extent. We enter under lofty arched gateways, and find 
our»elT3» in the midst of a picturesque population, represent- 
ing all the races of Southern and Central Asia. The city is 
much ga} er than Agra. Its streets are full of people of all 



FOKT AND PALACE OF DELni, 1G3 

colors and costumes. Its shops are ricli in Indian jewelry, 
which is manufactured here, and in Cashmere shawls and 
other Oriental fabrics ; and in walking through the Chand- 
ney Chook, the Broadway of Delhi, one might imagine him- 
Belf in the bazaars of Cairo or Constantinople. 

The Fort is very like that of Agra, being built of the same 
red sandstone, but much larger, and encloses a Palace which 
Bishop Heber thought superior to the Kremlin. In the Hall 
of Audience, which still remains, stood the famous Peacock 
Throne, which is estimated to have been worth thirty millions 
of dollars. Here the Great Mogul lived in a magnificence 
till then unknown even in Oriental courts. At the time that 
Louis XIY. was on the throne of France, a French traveller, 
Tavernier, made his way to the East, and though he had seen 
all the glory of Yersailles, he was dazzled by this greater 
Eastern splendor. But what a comment on the vanity of all 
earthly power, that the monarch who built this Palace waa 
not permitted to live in it ! He was dethroned by his son, 
the wily Aurungzebe, who imprisoned his father and mur- 
dered his brother, to get possession of the throne. Shah 
Jehan was taken back to Agra, and confined in the Fort, 
where he passed the last years of his life. But as it is only 
a mile from the Taj, the dethroned King, as he sat in his high 
tower, could see from his windows the costly mausoleum he 
had reared. Death came at last to his relief, as it comea 
alike to kiugs and captives, and he was laid in his marble 
tomb, beside the wife he had so much loved. 

This story of crime is relieved by one of the most touch- 
ing instances of fidelity recorded in history. When all 
others deserted the fallen monarch, there was one true heart 
that was faithful still. He had a daughter, the favorite 
sister of that murdered brother, who shared her father's 
captivity. She was famous throughout the East for her wi^ 
and beauty, but sorrow brought out the nobler traits of her 
'»***racter. She clung to her father, and thus comforted th« 



164 A FAITHFUL DAIJGHTEB. 

living while she mourned for the dead. She becajae verj 
religious, and spent her life in deeds of charity. She is noi 
buried in the Taj Mahal, but at Delhi in a hi imble grave 
Lowly in spirit and broken in heart, she shrank from display 
even in her comb. She desired to be buried in the common 
earth, with only the green turf above her. There she sleeps 
beneath a lowly mound (though surrounded by costly marble 
shrines), and near the head is a plain tablet, with an inscrip- 
tion in Persian, which reads : " Let no rich canopy C07er my 
grave. This grass is the best covering for the tomb of one 
who was poor in spirit — the humble, the transitory Jehanara, 
the disciple of the holy men of Cheest, the daughter of the 
Emperor Shah Jehan." Was there ever a more touching 
inscription ? As I stood by this grave, on which the green 
grass was growing, and read these simple words, I was mora 
moved than even when standing by the marble sarcophagus 
under the dome of the Taj. That covered an Emperor's 
wife, and was the monument of a royal husband's affection; 
this recalled a daughter's fidelity — broken in heart, yet 
loving and faithful, and devoted to the last. 

But humiliations were to come to the house of Aurung- 
»!ebe. As Louis XIY. on his deathbed had to mourn his 
haughty policy, which had ended in disaster and defeat, so 
Aurungzebe was hardly in his grave when troubles gathered 
round his house.* About thirty years after, a conqueror 
from Persia, Nadir Shah, came down from the passes of the 
Himalayas, ravaged the North of India to the gates of Delhi, 
plundered the city and the palace, and carried off the Pea- 
cock Throne — putting out the eyes of the Great Mogul, tell- 

• There are many parallels between Louis XIV. and Aurungzebe. 
They were contemporaries — and both had long reigns, the former a 
little over, and the latter a little less than, half a century. They 
were the most splendid sovereigns of their time — one in Europe, and 
the other in Asia, and with both the extravagance and prodigality of 
the monarchs prepared the way for revolution after their deaths. 



DELHI THE INDIAN MECCA. 165 

ing him in bit ter mockery that he had no more need of his 
throne, since he had no longer eyes to see it ! 

Other sorrows followed hard after. The kingdom was 
overrun by the terrible Mahrattas, whose horses' hoofs had 
BO often trampled the plains of India. Then came the Eng- 
lish, who took Delhi at the beginning of this century. But 
still the phantom of the old Empire lived, and there was an 
Indian Rajah, who bore the sounding name of the Great 
Mogul. The phantom continued till the Mutiny twenty 
years ago, when this ' ' King of Delhi " was set up by the 
Sepoys as their rallying cry. The overthrow of the Rebel- 
lion was the end of his house. His sons were put to death, 
and he was sent into exile, and the Great Mogul ceased to 
reign. 

But though he no longer reigns in Delhi, yet it is one of 
the chief centres of Islam in the world. Queen Victoria has 
more Mohammedan subjects than the Sultan. There are 
forty millions of Moslems in India. Delhi is their Mecca. 
Et has some forty mosques, whose tall minarets and gilded 
domes produce a very brilliant effect. One especially, the 
Jumma Musjid, is the most magnificent in India. It stands 
on a high terrace, mounted by long flights of steps, which give 
it an imposing effect. Huge bronze doors open into a large 
court, with a fountain in the centre, and surrounded by arched 
passages, like cloisters. Here are preserved with religious 
care some very ancient copies of the Koran, and the footprint 
of Mohammed in black marble (!), and (holiest relic of a]]) 
a coarse red hair, which is said to have been plucked from 
the beard of the prophet ! 

Nor is Mohammedanism in India a dead faith, whose fire 
has died out, its forms only being still preserved. The re- 
currence of one of their festivals arouses their religious ^leal 
to the highest pitch of fanaticism. We were in Delhi at the 
time of the Mohurrim, the Moslem " Feast of Martyrs,' de- 
signed to commemorate the bloody deaths of the grandsoxu 



166 A MOHAMMEDAN FESTIVAL. 

of Mohammed. Macaulay, in his review of the Life of Loro 
Clive, gives an instance in which this day was chosen for a 
military assault because of the frenzy with which it kindled 
all true Mussulmans. He says : 

*' It was the great Mohammedan festival, which is sacred to the 
memory of Hosein, the son of Ali. The history of Islam coutainfi 
nothing- more touching than the event which gave rise to that solem- 
nity. The mournful legend relates how the chief of the Fatimites, 
when all his brave followers had perished round him, drank hia 
latest draught of water and uttered his latest prayer ; how the assas- 
sins carried his head in triumph ; how the tyrant smote the lifeless 
lips with his staff ; and how a few old men recollected with tears that 
they had seen those lips pressed to the lips of the Prophet of God, 
After the lapse of twelve centuries, the recurrence of this solemn sea- 
son excites the fiercest and saddest emotions in the bosoms of the 
devout Moslems of India. They work themselves up to such ago- 
nies of rage and lamentation, that some, it is said, have given up the 
ghost from the mere effect of mental excitement." 

Such was the celebration that we witnessed in Delhi. The 
martyrdom of these Moslem saints is commemorated by little 
shrines in their houses, made of paper and tinsel, and on the 
great day of the feast they go in procession out of the city to 
a cemetery five miles distant, and there bury them in hun- 
dreds of newly-opened graves. As we drove out of Delhi, 
we found the procession on its march ; men, women, and 
children by tens of thousands on foot, and others in bullock - 
carts, or mounted on horses, camels, and elephants. Immense 
crowds gathered by the roadside, mounting the steps of old 
palaces, or climbing to the tops of houses, to see this mighty 
procession pass, as it went rolling forward in a wild frenzr 
to its Golgotha — its place of a skull. There they lay down 
these images of their saints as they would bury their dead . We 
went into the cemetery, and saw the open graves, and the lit- 
tle shrines garlanded with flowers, that wrre laid in the earth, 
not (so far as we saw) with weeping and (v^ailinc-, but 'athei 
with a feeling of triumph and victory. 



TUE SIEGE OF DELHI. ICA 

Leaving this scene of wild fanaticism, we rode on a few 
miles farther to the Kootub Minar, the loftiest isolated 
tower in the world, that has stood there six hundred years, 
looking down on all the strange scenes that have passed with- 
in its horizon, since watchers from its summit saw the armies 
of Tamerlane wiarch by. We rode back through a succession 
of ruins, stopping at several royal tombs, but most interested 
in one where the sons of the aged king of Delhi took refuge 
bfter the fall of the city, and from which they were taken out 
\>y Captain Hodson, and shot in the presence of their deluded 
followers, and their bodies exposed in the Chandney Chook, to 
the terror of the wretched people, who had seen the cruelty 
0/ these young princes, and were awed to see the retribution 
that overtook those who had stained their hands with blood. 

This tragedy took place less than twenty years ago, and 
lecalls that recent history from which fresh interest gathera 
round the walls of Delhi. This city played a great part in 
the Mutiny of 1857. Indeed it broke out at Meerut, thii-ty 
miles from here, where the Sepoys rose upon their officers, 
and massacred the Europeans of both sexes, and then rushed 
along the road to Delhi, to rouse the natives here to mutiny. 
Had those in command anticipated such a blow, they might 
have rallied their little force, and shut themselves up in the 
Fort (as was done at Agra), with provisions and ammunition 
for a siege, and there kept the tigers at bay. But they could 
not believe that the native troops, that had been obedient 
till noWj could "turn and rend them." They were unde 
ceived when they saw these Sepoys drunk with blood, rush 
ing into the town, calling on their fellow-soldiers to rise and 
kill. Many perished on the spot. But they fell not inglo- 
riously. A brave officer shut himself up in the Arsenal, and 
when the mutineers had gathered around, ready to burst in, 
applied the torch, and blew himself and a thousand natives 
into the ftir. The little handful of troops fled fron the town^ 
fcnd were scarcely able to rally enough to be safe even at a 



168 THE SIEGE OF DELHI. 

distance. But tlien rose the unconquerable English spirit 
With this small nucleus of an army, and such reinforcements 
as could be brought from the Punjaub, they held out through 
the long, dreadful Summer, till in September they had mus- 
tered all together seven thousand men (half of whom were 
natives), with which they proposed to assault a walled city 
held by sixty thousand native troops ! Planting their guna 
on the Kidge, a mile or two distant, they threw shells into the 
town, and as their fire took efiect, they advanced their lines 
nearer and nearer. But they did not advance unopposed. 
Many of the Sepoys were practised artillerists (since the 
Mutiny all the artillery regiments in India are English), and 
answered back with fatal aim. Still, though the English ranks 
were thinned, they kept pushing on ; they came nearer and 
nearer, and the roar of their guns was louder and louder. Ap- 
proaching the walls at one point, they wished to blow up the 
Cashmere Gate. It was a desperate undertaking. But when 
was English courage known to fail ? A dozen men were de- 
tailed for the attempt. Four na.tives carried bags of powder 
on their shoulders, but as they drew within rifle range, Eng- 
lish soldiers stepped up to take their places, for they would not 
expose their native allies to a danger which they were ready 
to encounter themselves. The very daring of the move- 
ment for an instant bewildered the enemy. The Sepoys with- 
in saw these men coming up to the gate, but thinking per- 
haps that they were deserters, did not fire upon them, and it 
was not till they darted back again that they saw the design. 
Then came the moment of danger, when the mine was to be 
fired. A sergeant advanced quickly, but fell mortally wound • 
ed ; a second sprang to the post, but was shot dead ; the 
third succeeded, but fell wounded ; the fourth rushed for- 
ward, and seeing the train lighted sprang into the moat, the 
bullets whizzed over him, and the next instant a tremendoui 
explosion threw the heavy wall into the air. 

Such are the tales of courage still told by the camp-fires of 



MEMORIES OF THE SIEGE. 16^ 

the regiments here. More tlaan once did we walk out to the 
Cashmere Gate, and from that point followed the track of 
the English troops as they stormed the city, pausing at the 
Bpot where the bravo General Nicholson fell. With mingled 
pride and sadness, we visited his grave, and those of othera 
who fell in the siege. The English church is surrounded 
with them, and many a tablet on its walls tells of the heroic 
dead. Such memories are a legacy to the living. We at- 
tended service there, and as we saw the soldiers filing into 
the church, and heard the swords of their officers ringing on 
the pavement, we felt that the future of India was safe when 
committed to such brave defenders ! 

This church was standing during the siege, and above it 
rose a gilded ball, supporting a cross, which was an object of 
hatred to both Mohammedan and Hindoo, who wished to 
see this symbol of our religion brought to the ground. Again 
and again they aimed their guns at it, and the globe was rid- 
dled with balls, but still the cross stood, until the city was 
completely subdued, when it was reverently taken down by 
English hands, and carried to the Historical Museum, to be 
kept as a sacred relic. May we not take this as a sign of the 
way in which the Christian faith will stand against all the 
false religions of India? 

But I turn from battles and sieges to a lighter picture. 
One may find great amusment in the street scenes of Delhi, 
which will relieve these " dun clouds of war." In the Mo- 
hammedan procession we had seen hundreds of the drollest 
little carts, drawn by oxen, on which the natives were stuck 
like pins, the sight of which, with the loads of happy life 
they bore, excited our envy. Before leaving Delhi, we 
thought it would be very " nice " to take a turn around the 
town in one of these extraordinary vehicles. We had tried 
almost every kind of locomotion ; we had ridden on horses 
iind donkeys, on camels and elephants, and had been borne 
in palanquins; but one more glorv awaited us — to ride in 9 
8 



170 KEDE rCT AN OX-CAKT. 

"baJi," — and so we commanded one to attend us for oui 
royal pleasure. But when it drew up in the yard of th« 
hotel, we looked at it in amazement. There stood the oxen, 
as ready to draw us as a load of hay ; but what a " chariot " 
was this behind ! It was a kind of baby-house on cart-wheel? 
— a cushion and a canopy — one seat, with a sort of umbrella 
over it, under which a native " lady " sits in state, with her 
feet curled up between her. How we were to get into it was 
the question. There were three of us, for the surgeon of the 
Peshawur had joined us. C. of course had the place of 
honor, while the Doctor and I sat on the edge of the seat, 
with our lower limbs extended at right angles. The " bali " 
is rigged somewhat like an Irish jaunting-car, in which one 
sits sidewise, hanging over the wheels ; only in a jaunting- 
car there is a board for the feet to rest upon, whereas here 
the feet are literally " nowhere." In the East there is no 
provision for the lower part of a man. Legs are very much in 
the way. A Turk or Hindoo curls them up under him, and 
has done with them. But if an impracticable European will 
dangle them abou?t where they ought not to be, he must take 
the consequences. I find that the only way is to look out 
for the main chance — to see that the body is safe, and let the 
legs take care of themselves. Then if an accident happens, 
I am not responsible ; I have done my duty. So we now 
*' faced the situation," and while the central personage re- 
posed like a Sultana on a soft divan, her attendants faced iii 
either direction, with their extremities flying all abroad. 
We felt as if sitting on the edge of a rickety chair, that 
might break any moment and pitch us into the street. But 
we held fast to the slender bamboo reeds that supported the 
canopy, and, thrusting c ur feet into the air, bade tl «e chario* 
proceed. 

The driver sits astride the tongue of the cart, and sets the 
thing going by giving the animals a kick in the rear, or seiz- 
Lng the tails and giving them a twist, which sets the beast* 



RroE IN AN OX-OART. 171 

into an awkward, lumbering gallop. He was proud of his 
team, and wished to show us their mettle, and now gave the 
tails a Herculean twist, which sent them tearing like mad 
bulls along the street. Everybody turned to look at us, 
while we laughed at the absurdity of our appearance, and 
wished that we could have our photograph taken to send 
home. Thus we rode to the great Mosque of the city, and 
through the Chandney Cbook, the street of the bazaars, and 
beck to our hotel, having had glory enough for one day. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

FROM DELHI TO LAHOKE. 

Times have changed since twenty years ago, when Delhi 
was the head and front of the Rebellion. It is now as tran- 
quil and loyal as any city in India. As we rode out to the 
Ridge, where the English planted their guns during the 
siege, we found it surmounted by a lofty Memorial Tower, 
reared to mark the spot where the courage of a few thousand 
men saved India. So completely is the English power re- 
established, that Delhi was lately chosen over all Indian 
cities as the one where should be gathered the most imposing 
display of troops to do honor to their future sovereign, the 
t*rince of Wales. Some forty regiments, native and English, 
were mustered here to form a grand Camp of Exercise. 
Never before had India witnessed such a military display. 
Here were native regiments in the picturesque costumes of 
the East — the superb Sikh cavalry; a corps of guides 
mounted on camels ; and heavy artillery drawn by elephants, 
which, as they came before the Prince, threw up their trunks 
and trumpeted a salute to the Majesty of England. Two 
weeks passed in military manceuvres, and the nights in a 
constant round of festivities. The Fort was brilliantly illu- 
minated, and the Palace was thronged with '' fair women and 
brave men," but they were those of another race, and speak • 
ing another language, from any known to the Great Mogul. 
Manly English forms took the place of the dusky Hindoos, 
and bright English eyes shone where once the beauties of the 
Seraglio " looked out from the lattice." As we walked 
through these marble halls that had just witnessed these 



THE CAMP JF EXEKOISE. 173 

splendid festivities, I could but think, What would the :•! J 
fanatical Mohammedan Aurungzebe have said, if he cJi^ld 
have seen, less than two hundred years after his day, a Chris- 
tian prince from that distant island of which he had per- 
haps scarcely heard, received in his palace, the heir of a 
power ten thousand miles away, that from its seat on the 
banks of the Thames stretches out its hand across the seas 
to grasp and hold the vast empire of the house of Tamer 
lane? 

The change has been from darkness to light. If England 
has not done as much for Delhi as the Great Mogul to give 
it architectural beauty, it has done far more for the people. 
It has given them good government for their protection, just 
laws rigidly enforced against the rich as well as the poor, a 
police which preserves perfect order ; and it even cares for the 
material comfort of its subjects, giving them good roads, clean 
and well-lighted streets, and public gardens ; thus providing 
for ornament and pleasure as well as for utility. 

The Camp of Exercise was breaking up as we left Delhi, 
and the troops were marching home. We saw them filing 
out of the gates of the city, and drew up by the roadside to 
see the gallant warriors pass. Among them was the corps of 
Sikh guides, or couriers, mounted on '' swift dromedaries." 
As they were scattered along the road, our guide asked some 
of them to show us how they could go. In an instant they 
dashed their feet against the sides of their " ooursers," and 
set them off at full speed. I cannot say that they were very 
beautiful objects. The camel with his long strides, and with 
the legs of his rider outspread like the wings of a bird, looked 
like an enormous ostrich flying at once with legs and wings 
in swift chase over the desert. But certainly it was a pictur 
esque sight. The infantry marched in column. The spectar- 
cle was very gay, as the morning sun shone on the waving 
banners and gleaming bayonets, and the sound of their bugles 
died aw^ay in the distance. Regiments had been leaving for 



174 Sm BARTLE FREBE AND CANON DUCKWORTH. 

days, and were scattered at intervals far to the North. At 
we travelled at night, we saw their camp-fires for a hundred 
miles. Indeed the whole country seemed to be a camp. 
Once or twice we came upon a regiment at sunset, just as 
they had pitched their tents. They had parked their guns, 
and picketed their horses, and the men were cooking their 
evening meal. It was a busy scene for an hour or two, till 
suddenly all became quiet, and the silence of night was broken 
only by the sentinel's tramp and the jackal's cry. 

At Gazeeabad we met Sir Bartle Frere, the chief of the 
suite of the Prince of Wales, and Canon Duckworth, his 
chaplain, who were going North on the same train, and found 
them extremely courteous. The former, I think, must be of 
French descent from his name (although his family has been 
settled in England for generations), and from his manners, 
which seemed to me more French than English, or rather to 
have the good qualities of both. When French courtesy is 
united with English sincerity, it makes the finest gentleman 
in the world. He is an " old Indian," having been many 
years in the Indian service, and at one time Governor of 
Bombay. I could but share the wish (which I heard often 
expressed) that in the change which was just taking place, ho 
were to be the new Governor-General of India. 

Canon Duckworth seemed to me also a very " manly 
man." Though coming to India in the train of royalty, he 
is much less interested in the fetes which are setting the 
country ablaze, than in studying missions, visiting native 
churches and schools and orphanages. Our American mis- 
sionaries like his bearing, and wish that he might be appoint- 
ed the new Bishop of Bombay. One fact should be mentioned 
to his credit — that he is one of the strongest temperance men 
in England, carrying his principles and his practice to the 
point of rigid total abstinence, which, for one travelling in 
Buch company, and sitting at such entertainments, shows a 
firmness in nvsisting temptation, greatly to his honor. It ii 



UHKITZDR. 17i 

A good sign when such men are chosen to accompany the 
future King of England on his visit to this great dependency, 
oyer which he is one day to rule. 

That night we had our first sight of the Himalayas. Just 
at evening we saw on the horizon a fire spreading on the 
side of a mountain. It was kindled by the natives, as fires 
are sometimes lighted in our forests or on our prairies. 
There were the Himalayas ! 

We now entered the most Northwestern Province of India, 
the Punjaub, which signifies in Persian " the land of the 
five streams," which coming together like the fingers of a 
hand, make the Indus. About midnight we crossed the 
Sutlej, which was the limit of the conquests of Alexander 
the Great. 

Morning brought us to XJmritzur, the holy city of the 
Sikhs — a sect of reformed Hindoos, who began their " re- 
forms" by rejecting idolatry, but have found the fascination 
of the old worship too strong for them, and have gradually 
fallen back into their old superstitions. Their most holy 
place is a temple standing in the centre of a large tank of 
water, which they call the Lake of Immortality, and with its 
pure white marble, and its roof made of plates of copper, 
richly gilded, merits the title of the Golden Temple. This 
is a very holy place, and they would not let us even cross 
the causeway to it without taking off our shoes; and when 
we put on slippers, and shuffled about, still they followed, 
watching us with sharp eyes, lest by any unguarded step we 
should profane their sanctuary. They are as fanatical as 
Mussulmans, and glared at us with such fierce looks that the 
ladies of our party wore almost frightened. In the centre of 
the temple sat two priests, on raised mats, to whom the rest 
^ere making offerings, wl ile half a dozen musicians kept up 
a hideous noise, to which the people responded in a way thai 
reminded us of the Howling Dervishes of Constantinople. 

A pleasant change from this disgusting scene was a visj? 



176 HOW CASHMEKE SHAWLS AEE MADE. 

fco the bazaars, and to the places where Cashmere stawls ar* 
manufactured. Of the latter I must say that (as a visit to a 
dirty kitchen does not quicken one's appetite for the steam- 
ing dinner that comes from it), if our fine ladies could see 
the dens in which these shawls are woven, they might not 
wear them with quite so much pride. They are close, narrow 
rooms, in which twenty or thirty men are crowded together, 
working almost without light or air. The only poetical thing 
about it is that the patterns are written out in rhyme, which 
they read or sing as they weave, and thus keep the patterns 
so regular. But the rooms themselves seem like breeding 
places for the cholera and the plague. But out of this filth 
comes beauty, as a flower shoots up from the damp, black 
soil. Some of the shawls were indeed exquisite in pattern 
and fabric. One was offered to us for eight hundred rupees 
(four hundred dollars), which the dealer said had taken two 
years and a half in its manufacture ! 

We left Umritzur at five o'clock, and in a couple of hours 
rolled into the station at Lahore. As the train stopped a 
friendly voice called our name, and we were greeted most 
heartily by Dr. Newton, the father of the Mission. Coolies 
were waiting to carry our baggage, and in a few minutes we 
were in an American home, sitting before a blazing fire, and 
receiving a welcome most grateful to strangers on the other 
side of the world. Dr. Newton is the head of a missionaiy 
family, his four sons being engaged in the same work, whiJe 
his only daughter is the wife of Mr. Forman, another mis- 
gionary. Yery beautiful it was to see how they all gathered 
round their father, so revered and beloved, happy to devote 
their lives to that form of Christian activity to which he 
had led them both by instruction and example. Here wt 
spent four happy days in one of the most pleasant homes 
in India. 

Lahore, like Delhi, has a historical interest. It was a 
great citv a thousand years ago. In 1241 it was taken and 



LAHOBE. 171 

plundered hy Genghis Khan ; a century and a half later came 
Tamerlane, who did not spoil it only because it was too poci 
to reward his rapacity. But as it recovered a little of its 
prosperity, Baber, in 1524, plundered it and partially burnt 
it. But again it rose from its ashes, and became a great 
city. The period of its glory was during the time of the 
Moguls, when it covered a space eighteen miles in circum- 
ference, and this vast extent is still strewn with the ruins ol 
its former greatness. Huge mounds, like those which Lay- 
ard laid open at Nineveh, cover the mighty wreck of former 
cities. 

But though the modern city bears no comparison to the 
ancient, still it has a political and commercial importance. 
It is the capital of the Punjaub, and a place of commerce 
with Central Asia. The people are the finest race we have 
seen in India. They are not at all like the efieminate Ben- 
galees. They are the Highlanders of India. Tall and athle- 
tic, they seem born to be warriors. Their last great ruler, 
old Bunjeet Sing, was himself a soldier, and knew how to 
lead them to victory. Uniting policy with v£.lor, he kept peace 
with the English, against whom his successors dashed them- 
selves and were destroyed. All readers of Indian history will 
remember the Sikh war, and how desperate was the struggle 
before the Punjaub was subdued. But English prowess con- 
quered at last, and the very province that had fought so 
bravely became the most loyal part of the Indian empire. It 
was fortunate that at the breaking out of the mutiny the 
Governor of the Punjaub was Sir John Lawrence, who had 
a great ascendancy over the natives, and by his courage and 
prompt measures he succeeded not only in keeping them 
quiet, but in mustering here a considerable force to restore 
English authority in the rest 3f India. The Punjaubees took 
part in the siege of Delhi From that day they have beeu 
the most trusted of natives for their courage and their fidelity. 
They are chosen for police duty in the cities of India, aucf 



178 THE FRONTIEB OF INDIA. 

three months later we were much pleased to recognize oui 
old friends keeping guard and preserving order in the streets 
of Hong Kong. 

Old Kunjeet Sing is dead — and well dead, as I can tes- 
tify, having seen his tomb, where his four wives and seven 
concubines, that were burnt on his funeral pile, are buried 
with him. His son too sleeps in a tomb near by, but only 
seven widowed women were sacrificed for him, and for a 
grandson only four ! Thus there was a falling oflf in the 
glory of the old suttee, and then the light of these fires 
went out altogether. These were the last widows burnt 
on the funeral pile, and to-day the old Lion of the Pun- 
jaub is represented by his son Maharajah Dhuleep Sing, 
of whose marriage we heard such a romantic story in Cairo, 
and who now lives with his Christian wife in Christian Eng- 
land. 

We had now reached almost the frontier of India. Two 
hundred and fifty miles farther we should have come to Pesh- 
uwur, the last military post, on the border of Afghanistan, 
VFhich no man crosses but at the peril of his life. We find 
how far North we have come by the race and the language 
of the people. Persian begins to be mingled with Hindos- 
tanee. In the streets of Lahore we meet not only the 
stalwart Punjaubees, but the hill tribes, that have come out 
of the fastnesses of the Himalayas ; the men of Cabul — Af- 
ghans and Beloochees — who have a striking resemblance to 
the Circassians, who crossed the Mediterranean with us on 
their pilgrimage to Mecca, the long dresses of coarse, dirty 
flannel, looking not unlike the sheepskin robes of the wild 
mountaineers of the Caucasus. 

One cannot be so near the border line of British India 
without having suggested the possibility of a Russian inva- 
eion, the fear of which has been for the last twenty yeara 
(since the Mutiny and since the (Crimean War) the bugbear 
of certain writers who are justly jealous of tlie integrity oi 



RUSSIA IN CKNTEAL ASIA. 179 

fclie English Empire in the East. Russia Las been steadilj 
pushing Eastward, and establishing her outposts in Centra^ 
Asia. These gradual advances, it is supposed, are all to the 
end of finally passing through Afghauistan, and attacking 
the English power in India. The appearance of Russian 
soldiers in the passes of the Hindoo Koosh, it is taken for 
granted, will be the signal for a general insurrection in 
India ; the country will be in a state of revolution ; and at 
the end of a struggle in which Russians and Hindoos will 
fight together against the English, the British power will 
have departed never to return. Or even should the Russians 
be held back from actual invasion, their approach in a threat- 
ening attitude would be such a menace to the Indian 
Epipire, as would compel England to remain passive, while 
Russia carried out her designs in Europe by taking posses- 
sion of Constantinople. 

This is a terrible prospect, and no one can say that it is 
impossible that all this should yet come to pass. India has 
been invaded again and again from the time of Alexander 
the Great. Even the mighty wall of the Himalayas has not 
proved an effectual barrier against invasion. Genghis Khan 
and Tamerlane, with their Tartar hordes, crossed the moun- 
tains and swept over the plains of JSTorthern India. A King 
of Persia captured Delhi, and put out the eyes of the Great 
Mogul, and carried off the Peacock Throne of Aurungzebe. 
What has been, may be ; what Persia has done, Russia may 
do. 

But while no one can say that it is impossible, all can set: 
that the difficulties are enormous. The distance to be tra- 
versed, the deserts and the mountains to be crossed, are so 
many obstacles set up by nature itself. An army from the 
Caspian Sea must march thovsands of miles over great des- 
erts, where even a small caravan can hardly subsist, and theu 
only by carrying both food to eat and water to drink. Many 
a caravan is buried by the sands of tlie desert. Wha ther 



180 CAI^ RUSSIA mVAI-)E INDIA? 

must be the difficulty of passing a whole army over such 9 
distance and such a desert, with food for men and horseSj 
and carrying guns and all the munitions of war ! Five years 
ago, Kussia attempted a campaign against Khiva, and sent out 
three separate expeditions, one of which was forced to turn 
back, not by hostile armies, but by the natural obstacles in 
its path, while the main column, under Gen. Kaufman, came 
very near succumbing to heat and thirst before reaching ita 
destination. But if the deserts are crossed, then the army 
is at the foot of the loftiest mountains on the globe, in the 
passes of which it may have to fight against savage enemies. 
It is assumed that Kussia will have the support of Afghan- 
istan, which will give them free access to the country, and 
aid them in their march on India ; though how a govern- 
ment and people, which are fanatically Mussulman, should 
aid Russia, which in Europe is the bitterest enemy ot Tur- 
key, the great Mohammedan power, is a point which these 
alarmists seem not to consider. 

But suppose all difficulties vanquished — the deserts crossed 
and the mountains scaled, and the Russians descending the 
passes of the Himalayas — what an army must they meet at 
its foot ! Not a feeble race, like that which fled before Nadir 
Shah or Tamerlane. With the railways traversing all India, 
almost the whole Anglo-Indian army could be transported to 
the Punjaub in a few days, and ready to receive the in- 
vaders. 

With these defences in the country itself, add another 
supreme fact, that England is absolute master of the sea, and 
that Eusisia has no means of approach except over the deserts 
and the mountains, and it will be seen that the difficulties in the 
way of a Russian invasion render it practically impossible, at 
least for a long time to come. What may come to pass in 
another century, no man can foresee ; but of this I feel well 
assured, that there will be no Russian invasion wdthin thf 
lifetime of this generation. 



END OF OUK JOIJENEY NORTH. 181 

"We had now reached the limit of our jouruey to the 
North, though we would have gladly gone farther. Dr. New- 
ton had spent the last summer in Cashmere, and told ua 
much of its beauty. We longed to cross the mountains, but 
it was too early in the year. The passes were still blocked 
up with snow. It would be months before we could make 
our way over into the Vale of Cashmere. And so, though 
we ^* lifted up our eyes unto the hills," we had to turn back 
from seeing the glory beyond. Might we not comfort our- 
selves by saying with Mohammed, as he looked down upon 
Damascus, " There is but one Paradise for man, and I wiJ'i 
turn away my eyes from this, lest I lose that which is to 
come." 

And so we turned away our eyes from beholding Paradise. 
But we had seen enough. So we thought as on Saturday 
evening we rode out to the Shalamir gardens, where an em- 
peror had made a retreat, and laid out gardens with foun- 
tains, and every possible accompaniment of luxury and pride. 
All remains as he left it, but silent and deserted. Emperor 
and court are gone, and as we walked through the gardens, 
our own footfall on the marble pavement was the only sound 
that broke the stillness of the place. But the beauty is as 
great as ever under the clear, full moon, which, as we rode 
back, recalled the lines of Scott on Melrose : 

* And home returning, sooth declare^ 
Was OTer scene so sad and fair i " 



CHAPTER XV. 

A WEEK IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

"Kyfrr mnce we landed in India my chief desire has been to 
see the Himalayas, I had seen Mont Blanc, the highest 
mountain in Europe, and now wished to look upon the high- 
est mountains in Asia, or the world. To reach them we had 
travelled nearly fifteen hundred miles. We had already had 
a distant view of them at night, lighted up by fires blazing 
along their sides ; but to come into their presence one must 
leave the railway and cross the country some forty miles. 

We left Lahore Monday morning, and at noon were at 
Lodiana, a place with sacred missionary associations ; which 
we left at midnight, and in the morning reached Saharanpur, 
where also is one of our Presbyterian missions. Rev. Mr. 
Calderwood met us at the station, and made us welcome to 
his home, and sped us on our way to the Hills. 

Saharanpur is forty-two miles distant from Dehra Doon, 
the beautiful valley which lies at the foot of the Himalayas. 
A mail wagon runs daily, but as it suited our convenience 
better, we chartered a vehicle not unlike an omnibus, and 
which the natives, improving on the English, call an omni- 
hukus. It is a long covered gharri^ that looks more like a 
prison van than anything else to which 1 can compare it, 
and reminded me of the Black Maria that halts before the 
Tombs in New York to convey prisoners to Blackwell'a 
Island. There are only two seats running lengthwise, as 
they are made to lie down upon in case of necessity. Much 
of the travelling is at night, and ** old Indians," who are used 
to the ways of the country, will spread their '* resais " and 



FROM SAHAEANPUR TO DEHEA DOON. 183 

Bleep soundly over all the joltings of the road. But we could 
sleep about as well inside of a bass drum. So we gave up 
the idea of repose, and preferred to travel by day to see the 
country, for which this sort of conveyance is very well con- 
trived. The canvas top keeps off the sun, while the latticed 
slides (which are regular green blinds), drawn back, give a 
fine view of the country as we go rolling over the road. Our 
charioteer, excited by the promise of a liberal backsheesh if 
he should get us into Dehra Doon before nightfall, drove at 
full speed. Every five or six miles the blast of his horn told 
those at the next stage that somebody was coming, and that 
A relay of fresh horses must be ready. As we approached 
the hills he put on an extra horse, and then two, so that we 
were driving four-in-hand. Then as the hills grew steeper, 
he took two mules, with a horse in front as a leader, mounted 
by a postilion, who, with his white dress and turbaned head, 
made a very picturesque appearance. How gallantly he rode ! 
He struck his heels into the spirited little pony and set him 
into a gallop, which the mules could but follow, and so we 
went tearing up hill and down dale at a furious rate ; while 
the coachman blew his horn louder still to warn common folks 
to get out of the way, and the natives drew to the roadside, 
wondering what great man it was who thus dashed by. 

But horses and mules were not enough to sustain such a 
load of dignity, and at the last stage the driver took a pair 
of the beautiful white hump-backed oxen of the country, 
which drew us to the top of the pass. The hills which we 
thus cross are known as the Sewalic range. The top oAce 
attained, two horses were quite enough to take us down, and 
we descended rapidly. And now rose before us a vision of 
beauty such as we had not seen in all India. The vale cf 
Dehra Doon is enclosed between two walls of mountains — the 
Sewalic range on one side, and the first range of the Hima- 
layas on the other. It is fifteen miles wide, and about sixty 
miles long, extending from the Jumna to the Ganges. Thrr 



184 THE VALE OF DEHEA DOON. 

it lies between two mountains and two rivers, and has a tern 
peratxire and a moisture which keep it in perpetual green. 
Nothing can be more graceful than the tall feathery bamboos, 
which here grow to a great height. Here are fine specimens 
of the peepul tree — the sacred tree of India, massive as an 
English oak — and groves of mangoes. Everything seems to 
grow here — tea, coffee, tobacco, cinnamon, cloves. The ap- 
pearance of this rich valley, thus covered with groves and 
gardens, to us coming from the burnt plains of India, was like 
that of a garden of Paradise. Riding on through this mass 
of foliage, we rattled into the town, but were not obliged to 
"find our warmest welcome at an inn." Kev. Mr. Herron 
had kindly invited us to accept his hospitality, and so we 
inquired for " Herron-sahib," and were driven along a smooth 
road, embowered in bamboos, to the Missionary Compound, 
where a large building has been erected for a Female Semi- 
nary, chiefly by the labors of Messrs. Woodside and Herron, 
the latter of whom is in charge of the institution, one of the 
most complete in India. Here we were most cordially 
received, and found how welcome, in the farthest part of the 
world, is the atmosphere of an American home. 

But once in presence of the great mountains, we were im- 
patient to climb the first range, to get a view of the snows. 
Mr. Herron ofiered to keep us company. We rose at four 
the next morning, while the stars were still shining, and set 
out, but could ride only five miles in a carriage, when we 
came to the foot of the hills, and were obliged to take to the 
saddle. Our " syces " had led three horses alongside, which 
we mounted just as the starlight faded, and the gray light 
of day began to show over the mountain-tops, while oui 
attendants, light of foot, kept by our side in case their ser» 
vices were needed. 

And now we begin the ascent, turning hither and thither, 
as the road winds along the sides of the mountain. Th€ 
slope of the Himalayas is not a smooth and even one, rising 



THE VALE OF DEHRA DOON. 185 

gently through an unbroken forest. The mountain side haa 
been torn by the storms of thousands of years. In the 
spring, when the snows melt and the rains come, every tor- 
rent whose rocky bed is now bare, becomes a foaming flood, 
rushing down the hills, and tearing its way through the low- 
lands, till lost in the Jumna or the Ganges. Thus the 
m^^vintain is broken into innumerable spurs and ridges that 
shoot out into the valley. Where the scanty herbage can 
gather like moss on the rocks, there is grazing for sheep and 
goats and cattle ; and these upland pastures, like those of 
the Alps or the Tyrol, are musical with the tinkling of bells. 
High up on the mountains they are dark with pines ; while 
on the inner ranges of the Himalayas the mighty cedars 
" shake like Lebanon." 

One can imagine how lovely must be the Yale of Dehra 
Doon, with its mass of verdure, set in the midst of such 
rugged mountains. Although we were climbing upward, we 
could but stop, as we came to turning points in the road, to 
look back into the valley. Sometimes a projecting ledge of 
rock ofiered a fine point of view, on which we reined up our 
horses ; or an old oak, bending its gnarled limbs over us, 
made a frame to the picture, through which we looked down 
into the fairest of Indian vales, unless it be the Yale of 
Cashmere. From such a point the landscape seemed to com- 
bine every element of beauty — plains, and woods, and streams 
and mountains. Across the valley rises the long serrated ridge 
of the Sewalic range. Within this space is enclosed a great 
variety of surface — undulating in hill and valley, with green 
meadows, and villages, and gardens, while here and there, 
along the banks of the streams, whose beds are now dry, are 
oclts of virgin forest. 

The industry of the people, which turns every foot of soil 
to account, is shown by the way in which the spurs of the 
mountains are terraced to admit of cultivation. Where vei 
tbere is an acre of level ground, there is a patch of green^ 



186 ETOE TO THE HILLS. 

for the wheat, fields are just springing up ; and even spacei 
of but a few rods are planted with potatoes. Thus the sides 
of the Himalayas are belted with lines of green, like the 
sides of the Alps as one descends into Italy. The \iew la 
especially beautiful at this morning hour as the sun rises, 
causing the dews to lift from the valley, while here and there 
a curl of smoke, rising through the mist, marks the place of 
human habitation. 

But we must prick up our horses, for the sun is up, and 
we are not yet at the top. It is a good ride of two hours 
(we took three) to the ridge on which are built the two 
** hill stations " of Mussoorie and Land our — which are great 
resorts of the English during the summer months. These 
" stations " do not deserve the name of towns ; they are 
merely straggling Alpine villages. Indeed nowhere in the 
Alps is there such a cluster of houses at such a height, or 
in such a spot. There is no " site " for a regular village, no 
place for a " main street." One might as well think of 
*' laying out " a village along the spine of a sharp backed 
whale, as on this narrow mountain ridge. There is hardly an 
acre of level ground, only the jagged ends of hills, or points 
of rocks, from which the torrents have swept away the earth 
on either side, leaving only the bare sui'face. Yet on these 
points and edges — wherever there is a shelf of rock to fur- 
nish a foundation, the English have built their pretty bunga- 
lows, which thus perched in air, 7,500 feet high, look like 
mountain eyries, and might be the home of the eagles that 
we see sailing over the valley below. From such a height 
do they look over the very top of the Sewalic range to the 
great plains of India. 

But we did not stop afc this mountain to look back. 
Dashing through tlie little straggling bazaar of Landour, we 
spurred onto the higli est point, '' Lai Tiba"; from which 
we hoped for the great view of " the snows." We reachoa 
the spot at nine o'clock, but as yet we saw *' only in part.'' 



MOIJNTAmS COVERED WITH OLOUDB. 18) 

Our final rision was to come three days later. Away to the 
North and East the horizon was filled witli mouniains, whose 
sumiiiits the foot of man had never trod, but the intervening 
distance was covered with clouds, out of which rose the 
snowy domes, like islands in a sea. 

My first impression of the Himalayas was one of disap- 
pointment, partly because we '' could not come nigh unto " 
them. "We saw their summits, but at such a distance that 
they did not look so high as Mont Blanc, where we could 
come *'even to his feet " in the Yale of Chamouni. But the 
Himalayas were seventy miles off,* filling the whole horizon. 
Not did they rise up in one mighty chain, like the Cordilleras 
of Mexico, standing like a wall of rock and snow against the 
sky ; but seemed rather a sea of mountains, boundless and 
billowy, rising range on range, one overtopping the other, 
and rolling away to the heart of Asia ; or, to change the 
figure, the mountains appeared as an ice continent, like that 
of the Polar regions, tossed up here and there into higher 
and still higher summits, but around which, stretching away 
to infinity, was the wild and interminable sea. 

Thus the view, though different from what I expected^ 
was very grand, and though we had not yet the full, cleai* 
vision, yet the sight was sublime and awful, perhaps even 
more so from the partial obscurity, as great clouds came 
rolling along the snowy heights, as if the heavenly host up- 
rose at the coming of the day, and were moving rank on 
rank along the shining battlements. 

We had hoped by waiting a few hours to get an unob- 
structed view, but the clouds seemed to gather rather than 
disperse, warning us to hasten our descent. 

* This is given as an average distance in an air line. The nearest 
peak, Boonderpuncli (Monkey's Tail), is forty-five miles as the crow 
flies, though by the nearest accessible route, it is a hundred and 
forty ! Nunda Davee is a, hundred and ten in an air line, but by tbfl 
paths ofer the mountaina^ must be over two hundred 



188 A hunter's hoube. 

In going up tli3 mountain, C liad kept along with uj 

on horseback, but the long ride to one not used to the saddle 
had fatigued her so that on the return she was glad to accept 
Mr. Herron's offer of a dandi, a chair borne by two men, 
which two others accompanied as relays, while we, mounted 
as before, followed as outriders. Thus mustering our Kttle 
force, we began to descend the mountain. 

A mile or so from the top we turned aside at the house of 
a gentleman who was a famous hunter, and who had a large 
collection of living birds, pheasants and manauls, while the 
veranda was covered with tiger and leopard skins. He was 
jibsent, but his wife (who has the spirit and courage of a 
huntress, and had often brought down a deer with her own 
hand) was there, and bade us welcome. She showed us her 
birds, both living and stuffed, the number of which made 
her house look like an ornithological museum. To our inquiry 
she said, " The woods were full of game. Two deer had been 
shot the evening before." 

We asked about higher game. She said that tigers were 
not common up on the mountain as in the valley. She had 
two enormous skins, but ** the brutes " her husband had shot 
over in Nepaul. But leopards seemed to be her special pets. 
When I asked, " Have you many leopards about here ? " she 
laughed as she answered, " I should think so." She often 
saw them JTist across a ravine a few rods in front of her 
house, chasing goats or sheep. " It was great fun." Of 
late they had become rather troublesome in killing dogs. 
And so they had been obliged to set traps for tbem. They 
framed a kind of cage, with two compartments, in one of 
which they tied a dog, whose yelpings at night attracted the 
leopard, who, creeping round and round, to get at his prey, 
at length dashed in to seize the poor creature, but found bara 
between them, while the trap closed upon him, and Mr. Leo- 
pard was a prisoner. In this way they had caught four the 
last summer. Then this Highland lady camo out from her 



A THUNDEESTORM. 18i} 

cottage, and with a rifle put an end to tie leopard's carevsr in 
devouring dogs. The number of skins on the veranda told 
of their skill and success. 

Pursuing my inquiry into the character of her neighbors^ 
I asked, " Have you any snakes about here ? " ** Oh no," 
she replied carelessly ; '' that is to say not many. The 
cobras do no come up so high on the mountain. But there 
is a serpent in the woods, a kind of python, but he is a 
large, lazy creature, that doesn't do any mischief. One day 
that my husband was out with his gun, he shot one that was 
eighteen feet long. It was as big around as a log of wood, 
so that when I came up I sat down and took my tiffin upon 
it." 

While listening to these tales, the clouds had been gather- 
ing, and now they were piled in dark masses all around the 
horizon. The lightning flashed, and we could hear the 
heavy though distant peals of thunder. Presently the big 
drops began to fall. There was no time to be lost. We 
could see that the rain was pouring in the valley, while 
heavy peals came nearer and nearer, reverberating in the 
hollows of the mountains. It was a grand sjDectacle of 
Nature, that of a storm in the Himalayas. Thunder in front 
of us, thunder to the right of us, thunder to the left of us ! I 
never had a more exciting ride, except one like it in the 
Pocky Mountains four years before. At our urgent request, 
Mr. Herron spurred ahead, and galloped at full speed down 

the mountain. I came more slowly with C in the dandi. 

But we did not lose time, and after an hour's chase, in which 
we seemed to be running the gauntlet of the storm, *' dodg- 
ing the rain," we were not a little relieved, just as the 
scattered drops began to fall thicker and faster, to come into 
the yard of the hotel at Pajpore. 

The brave fellows who had brought the dandi deserved a 
reward, although Mr. Herron said they were his servants. 1 
wanted to give them a rupee each, but he would not hear of 



1^0 TIGEBS m THE VALLEY. 

it, and when I insisted on giving at least a couple of rupees 
for the four, which would be twenty -five cents a piece, the 
poor fellcws were so overcome with my generosity that they 
bowed almost to the ground in acknowledgment, and went 
off hugging each other with delight at the small fortune 
which had fallen to them. 

At Kajpore the carriage was waiting for us, and under its 
ccver from the rain, we rode back, talking of the incidents 
of the day ; and when we got home and stretched ourselves 
before the blazing fire, the subject was renewed. I have a 
boy's fDudness for stories of wild beasts, and listened with 
eager interest to all my host had to tell. It was hard to 
realize that there were such creatures in such a lovely sj)ot. 
** Do you really mean to say," I asked, " that there are 
tigers here in this valley ? " '* Yes," he answered, " within 
five miles of where you are sitting now." He had seen one 
himself, and showed us the very spot that morning as we 
rode out to the hills, when he pointed to a ravine by the 
roadside, and said : " As I was riding along this road one 
day with a lady, a magnificent Bengal tiger came up out of 
that ravine, a few rods in front of us, and walked slowly 
across the road. He turned to look at us, and we were 
greatly relieved when, after taking a cool survey, he moved 
off into the jungle." 

But leopards are still more common and familiar. They 
have been in this very dooryard, and on this veranda. One 
summer evening two years ago, said Miss P., I was sitting on 
the gravelled walk to enjoy the cool air, when an enormous 
creaturo brushed past but a step in front between us and the 
bouse. At first we thought in the gloaming it might be a 
dog of very unusual size, but as it glided past, and came into 
the light of some cottages beyond, we perceived that it was a 
very different beast. At another time a leopard crossed the 
vreranda at night, and brushed over the face of a native womao 
sleeping with her child in her arms. It was well the beast 



SEOOISID ASCENT. 19i 

was not hungry, or he would have snatched the child, as thej 
often do when playing in front of native houses, and carried 
it off into the jungle. 

But we will rest to-night in sweet security in this mission- 
ary home, without fear of wild beasts or thunder storms. The 
clouds broke away at sunset, leaving a rich " after-glow " up- 
on the mountains. It was the clear shining after the rain. 
Just then 1 heard the voices of the native children in the 
chapel, singing their hymns, and with these sweet suggestions 
of home and heaven, "I will lay me down in peace and sleep, 
for thou Lord only makest me dwell in safety." 

We had had a glimpse of the Himalayas, but the glimpse 
only made us eager to get the full " beatific vision " : so, after 
resting a day, we determined to try again, going up in the 
afternoon, and spending the night, so as to have a double 
chance of seeing the snows — both at sunset and at sunrise. 
This time we had also the company of Mr. Woodside, beside 
whom I rode on horseback ; while Mr. Herron gave his escort 

to C , who was " promoted " from a dandi to a jahnpoun^ 

which differs from the former only in that it is more spacious, 
and is carried by four bearers instead of two. Thus mount- 
ed she was borne aloft on men's shoulders. She said the 
motion was not unpleasant, except that the men had a habit, 
when they came to some dangerous point, turning a rock, or 
on the edge of a precipice, of changing bearers, or swinging 
round the bamboo pole from one shoulder to another, which 
made her a little giddy, as she was tossed about at such 8 
height, from which she could look down a gorge hundreds of 
feet deep. However, she takes all dangers very lightly, and 
was enraptured with the wildness and strangeness of the 
Bcene- -to find herself, an American girl, thus being trans* 
ported over the mountains of A sia. 

So we took up our line of march for the hills, and soon 
Cound our pulses beating faster. Why is it that we feel sucfe 



192 HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. 

exhilaration in climbing mountains? Is it something in the 
air, that quickens the blood, and reacts upon the brain? Oi 
is it the sensation of rising into a higher atmosphere, of " go- 
ing up into heaven ? " So it seemed that afternoon, as we 
"left the earth" behind us, and went up steadily inio the 
clouds. 

I found that the Himalayas grew upon acquaintance. They 
looked more grand the second time than the first. The land- 
scape was changed by the westering sun, which cast new 
lights and shadows across the valley, and into the wooded 
bosom of the hills. To these natural beauties my companion 
added the charm of historical associations. Few places in 
India have more interest to the scholar. The Sewalic range 
was almost the cradle of the Brahminical religion. Sewalic, 
or Sivalic, as it might be written, means literally the hills 
of Shiva, or the hills of the gods, where their worshippers 
built their shrines and worshipped long before Christ was 
born in Bethlehem. The same ridge is a mine to the natural- 
ist. It is full of fossils, the bones of animals that belonged 
to some earlier geological epoch. The valley has had a part 
in the recent history of India. Here the Goorkas — one of 
the hill tribes, which stood out longest against the English — 
fought their last battle. It was on yonder wooded height 
which juts out like a promontory into the plain, where the 
ruin of an old fort marks the destruction of their power. To- 
day the Goorkas, like the Punjaubees, are among the most 
loyal defenders of English rule. 

At present the attraction of this valley for " old Indians " 
is not so much in its historical or scientific associations, as 
the field which it gives to the hunter. This belt of country, 
running about a hundred miles along the foot of the Him- 
alayas, is composed of forest and jungle, and is a favorite 
habitat of wild beasts — tigers and leopards and wild ele- 
phants. It was in this belt, called the Terai, though furthei 
to the East, in Nepaul, that the Prince of Wales a £e^ 



WILD ET.EPHA1NTS. 193 

leeeks later made his great tiger-hunting expedition. He 
might perhaps have found as good sport in the valley right 
under our eyes. " Do you see that strip of woods yonder ? " 
said Mr. Woodside, pointing to one four or five miles dis- 
tant. " That is full of wild elephants." An Indian Rajah 
came here a year or two since for a grand hunt, and in two 
days captured twenty-four. This is done by the help of tame 
elephants who are trained for the purpose. A large tract of 
forest is enclosed, and then by beating the woods, the herd 
is driven towards a corner, and when once penned, the tame 
elephants go in among them, and by tender caressing engage 
their attention, till the coolies slip under the huge beasts 
and tie their feet with ropes to the trees. This done, they 
can be left till subdued by hunger, when they are easily tamed 
for the service of man. 

These creatures still have the range of the forests. In 
riding through the woods one may often hear the breaking 
of trees, as wild elephants crash through the dense thicket. 
I had supposed that all kinds of wild beasts were very much 
reduced in India under English rule. The hunters say they 
are so much so as to destroy the sport. But my companion 
thinks not, for two reasons : the government has made 
stringent laws against the destruction of forests ; and since 
the mutiny the natives are not allowed to carry fire-arms. 

We might have startled a leopard anywhere on the moun- 
tain side. A young Scotchman whom we met with his rifle 
on his shoulder, said he had shot two a fortnight ago, 
but that there was a very big one about, which he had seen 
several times, but could never get a shot at, but he hoped to 
bring him dawn before long. 

With such chat as this we trotted up the mountain road, 
till we came to where it divides, where, leaving Mr. Herron 

and C to go on straight to Landour, we turned to the 

left to make a flying visit to the other hill station of Mus- 
soorie. As we lode along, Mr. Woodside pointed out to me 
9 



194 ADVENTCRES IN THE MOUNTAINS. 

the spc t where, a few weeks before, his horse had backed ofl 
a precipice, and been dashed to pieces. Fortunately he waa 
not on his back (he had alighted to make a call), or the 
horse and his rider might have gone over together. As we 
wound up the road he recalled another incident, which 
occurred several years ago: ''I had been to attend an 
evening reception at the Young Ladies' school (which we 
had just left), and about eleven o'clock mounted to ride 
home. I had a white horse, and it was a bright moonlight 
night, and as I rode up the hill, just as I turned a corner in 
the road there (pointing to the spot) I saw a huge leopard 
crouching in the attitude of preparing to spring. I rose up 
in the saddle (my friend is a man of giant stature) and 
shouted at the top of my voice, and the beast, not knowing 
what strange monster he had encountered, leaped over the 
Dank and disappeared." 

*' The next day," he added, " I was telling the story to a gen- 
'Jeman, who replied, ' You were very fortunate to escape so,' 
ind then related an incident of his own, in which a leopard 
'.prang upon his horse, which the fright caused to give such 
I bound that the brute fell off, and the horse starting at 
full speed, they escaped. But he felt that the escape was so 
providential that he had thanks returned in the church the 
oext Sabbath for his deliverance from a sudden death." 

Thus listening to my companion's adventures, we rode 
along the ridge of Mussoorie to its highest point, which com- 
mands a grand view of the Snowy Kange. Here stands a 
convent, which educates hundreds of the daughters of Prot- 
estant Englishmen, as well as those of its own faith. Thus 
the Catholic Church plants its outposts on the very crests of 
the mountains. 

At Landour is another Catholic institution (for boys) 
called St. George's College, perhaps as a delicate flattery to 
Englishmen in taking the name of their guardian saint. It 
has a chine of bells, which at that height and thac houi 



RIDE TO LANDOUB. 195 

strikes the ear with singular and toucbirg etTect. It ma;y 
well stir up our Protestant friends, both to admire and to 
imitate, as it furnishes a new proof of the omnipresence of 
Rome, when the traveller finds its convents, and hears the 
chime of its vesper bells, on the heights and amid the valleys 
of the Himalayas. 

But the sun was sinking, and it was four miles from Mus- 
Boorie to Landour, where we were to make our second 
attempt to see the snows. Turning our horses, we rode at 
full speed along the ridge of the mountain, and reached the 
top of Lai Tiba before sunset, but only to be again dis- 
appointed. Northward and eastward the clouds hung upon 
the great mountains. But if one part of the horizon was 
hidden, on the other we looked over the top of the Sewalio 
range, to where the red and fiery sun was sinking in a bank 
of cloud — not '* clouds full of rain," but merely clouds of 
dust, rolling upward " like the smoke of a furnace " from the 
hot plains of India. In the foreground was the soft, green 
valley of Dehra Doon, more beautiful from the contrast with 
the burning plains beyond. It was a peaceful landscape, as 
the shadows of evening were gathering over it. From this 
we turned to watch the light as it crept up the sides of the 
mountains. The panorama was constantly changing, and 
every instant took on some new feature of grandeur. As 
daylight faded, another light flashed out behind us, for the 
mountains were on fire. It is a custom of the people, who 
are herdsmen, to burn off the low brush (as the Indians 
burned over the prairies), that the grass may spring up fresh 
and green for their flocks and cattle ; and it was a fearful 
spectacle, that of these great belts of fiie running along the 
mountain side, and lighting up the black gorges below. 

Giving our horses to the guides to be led down the decliv- 
ity, we walked down a narrow path in the rocks that led to 
Woodstock, a female seminary, built on a kind of terrace 
half a mile balow--a most picturesque spot (none the less 



196 SIGHT OF THE SNOWS AT LAST. 

romantic because a tiger had once carried off a man from tlw 
foot of the ravine a few rods below the house), and there, 
around a cheerful table, and before a roaring fire, forgot the 
fatigues of the day, and hoped for sunshine on the morrow. 

It was not yet daylight when we awoke. The stars were 
shining when we came out on the terrace, and the waning 
moon still hung its crescent overhead. A faint light began 
to glimmer in the east. We were quickly muffled up (for it 
was cold) and climbing up the steep path to Lai Tiba, hoping 
yet trembling. I was soon out of breath, and had more than 
once to sit down on the rocks to recover myself. But in a 
moment I would rise and rush on again, so eager was I with 
hope, and yet so fearful of disappointment. One more pull 
and we were on the top, and behold the glory of God spread 
abroad upon the mountains ! Our perseverance was rewarded 
at last. There were the Himalayas — the great mountains of 
India, of Asia, of the globe. The snowy range was in full 
view for more than a hundred miles. The sun had not yet 
risen, but his golden limb now touched the east, and as the 
great round orb rose above the horizon, it seemed as if G-od 
himself were coming to illumine the universe which he had 
created. One after another the distant peaks caught the light 
upon their fields of snow, and sent it back as if they were 
the shining gates of the heavenly city. One could almost 
look up to them as Divine intelligences, and address them in 
the lines of the old hymn : 

Those glorious minds^ how bright they shine, 

Whence all their white array ? 
How came they to the happy seats 

Of everlasting day ? 

But restraining our enthusiasm for the moment, let us look 
at the configuration of this Snowy Kange, simply as a study in 
geography. We are in presence of the highest mountains on 
the globe. We are on the border of that table land of Asii 



"the koof of the would." 197 

(" High Asia ") which the Arabs in their poetical language 
call " The Koof of the World." Yonder pass leads over into 
Thibet. The trend of the mountains is from southeast to 
northwest, almost belting the continent. Indeed, physical 
geographers trace it much farther, following it down on one 
hand through the Malayan Peninsula and on the other run- 
ning it through the Hindoo Koosh (or Caucasus) northwest 
to Mt. Ararat in Armenia ; and across into Europe, through 
Turkey and Greece, to the Alps and the Pyrenees, forming 
what the Arabs call " The Stony Girdle of the Earth." But 
the centre of that girdle, the clasp of that mighty zone, is here. 

It is difficult to form an idea of the altitude of mountains, 
when we have no basis of comparison in those which are fa- 
miliar. But nature here is on another scale than we have 
seen it before. In Europe Mont Blanc is " the monarch of 
mountains," but yonder peak, Nunda Davee, which shows 
above the horizon at the distance of a hundred and ten miles, 
is 25,600 feet high — that is, nearly two miles higher than 
Mont Blanc ! There are others still higher — Kinchinganga 
and Dwalaghiri — but they are not in sight, as they are 
farther east in Nepaul. But from Darjeeling, a hill station 
much frequented in the summer months by residents of Cal- 
cutta, one may get an unobstructed view of Mount Everest, 
29,000 feet high, the loftiest summit on the globe. And here 
before us are a number of peaks, twenty-two, twenty-three, 
and twenty-four tliousand feet high — higher than Chimborazo, 
or any peak of the Andes. 

Perhaps the Himalayas are less impressive than the Alps 
in proportion, because the snow line is so much higher. In 
Switzerland we reach the line of perpetual snow at 8,900 
feet, so that the Jungfrau, which is less than 14,000 feet, 
has a full mile of snow covering her virgin breast. But here 
the traveller must ascend 18,000 feet, nearly two miles higher, 
before he comes to the line of perpetual snow. It is consid- 
ered a great achievement of the most daring Alpine climberf 



198 THE HIMALAYAS COMPAEED WITH THE ALPS. 

to reach the top of the Jungfrau or the Matterhorn, biit hen 
many of the passes are higher than the summit of either. 
Dr. Bellew, who accompanied the expedition of Sir Douglas 
Forsyth three years since to Yarkund and Kashgar, told me 
they crossed passes 19,000 feet high, nearly 4,000 feet higher 
than Mont Blanc. He said they did not need a guide, for 
that the path was marked by bones of men and beasts that 
had perished by the way ; the bodies lying where they fell^ 
for no beast or bird lives at that far height, neither vulture 
nor jackal, while the intense cold preserved the bodies from 
decay. 

But the Himalayas are not all heights, but heights and 
depths. The mountains are divided by valleys. From 
where we stand the eye sweeps over the tops of nine or ter. 
separate ranges, with valleys between, in which are scattered 
hundreds of villages. The enterprising traveller may descend 
into these deep places of the earth, and make his toilsome 
way over one range after another, till he reaches the snows. 
But he will find it a fourteen days' "march. My companion 
had once spent six weeks in a missionary tour among tliese 
villages. 

Wilson, the author of " The Abode of Snow," * who spent 
months in travelling through the Inner Himalayas, from 
Thibet to Cashmere, makes a comparison of these mountains 
with the Alps. There are some advantages to be claimed for 
the latter. Not only are they more accessible, but combine 
in a smaller space more variety. Their sides are more gener- 
ally clothed with forests, which are mirrored in those beauti- 
ful sheets of water that giv3 such a charm both to Swiss and 

* A very fascinating book, especially to Alpine tourists, or those 
fond of climbing- mountain.^. The title, " The Abode of Snow," is a 
translation of the word Himalaya. The writer is a son of the late 
Dr. Wilson, of Bombay. Taking a new field, he has produced a 
Btory of travel and adv^enture, which will be apt to tempt others t* 
follow him. 



THE HINDOO KTLA8. 199 

Scottish scenery. But in the Himalayas there is hardly a 
lake to be seen until one entei-s the Vale of Cashmerss, Then 
the Alps have more of the human element, in the picturesque 
Swiss villages. The traveller looks down from snow-covered 
mountains into valleys with meadows and houses and the 
spires of churches. But in the Himalayas there is not a sign 
of civilization, and hardly of habitation. Occasionally a vil 
lage or a Buddhist monastery may stand out i)icturesquely 
on the top of a hill, but generally the mountains are given 
up to utter desolation. 

" But," says Wilson, "when all these admissions in favor of Swit- 
zerland are made, the Himalayas still remain unsurpassed, and even 
unapproached, as regards all the wilder and grander features of 
mountain scenery. There is nothing in the Alps which can afford 
even a faint idea of the savage desolation and appalling sublimity of 
many of the Himalayan scenes. Nowhere have the faces of the 
rocks been so scarred and riven by the nightly action of frost and 
the midday floods from melting snow. In almost every valley we 
see places where whole peaks or sides of great mountains have very 
recently come shattering down." 

This constant action of the elements sometimes carves the 
sides of the mountains into castellated forms, like the canons 
of the Yellowstone and the Colorado : 

"Gigantic mural precipices, bastions, towers, castles, citadels, 
xnd spires rise up thousands of feet in height, mocking in their im- 
"oaensity and grandeur the puny efforts of human art ; while yet 
higher the domes of pure white snow and glittering spires of ice far 
enrpass in perfection, as well as in immensity, all the Moslem mus'- 
iids and minars." 

But more impressive than the most fantastic or imposing 
jforms are the vast spaces of untrodden snow, and the awful 
solitudes and silences of the upper air. No wonder that the 
Hindoos made this inaccessible region the dwelling-place of 
their gods. It is their Kylas, or Heaven. The peak of Bad- 
rinath, 24,000 feet high, is the abode of Vishnu; and thai 



200 A OHITROH ON THE MOUNTAINB. 

of Kedarnath, 23,000, is the abods of Shiva — two of the Hin 
doo Trinity.. Nunda Davee (the goddess Nunda) is the wifi 
of Shiva. Around these summits gathers the whole Hindoo- 
mythology. Yonder, where we see a slight hollow in the 
mountains, is Gungootree, where the Ganges takes its rise, 
issuing from a great glacier by a fissure, or icy cavern, worn 
underneath, called the Cow's Mouth. Farther to the west is 
Jumnootree, the source of -the Jumna. Both these places 
are very sacred in the eyes of the Hindoos, and as near to 
them as any structure can be placed, are shrines, which are 
visited by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims from all parts 
of India. 

Thus these snowy heights are to the Hindoo Mount Sinai 
and Calvary in one. Here is not only the summit where 
God gave the law, but where God dwells evermore, and out 
of which issue the sacred rivers, which are like the rivers of 
the water of life flowing out of the throne of God ; or like 
the blood of atonement, to wash away the sins of the world. 

But the associations of this spot are not all of Hindooism 
and idolatry. True, we are in a wintry region, but there is 
an Alpine flower that grows at the foot of the snows. Close 
to Lai Tiba I observed a large tree of rhododendrons, in full 
bloom, although it was February, their scarlet blossoms con- 
trasting with the snow which had fallen on them the night 
before. But the fairest blossom on that Alpine height is a 
Christian church. Lai Tiba itself belongs to the Presbyte- 
rian mission, and adjoining it is the house of the missiona- 
ries. On the ridge is a mission church, built chiefly by the 
indefatigable efforts of Mr. Woodside. It is a modest, yet 
tasteful building, standing on a point of rock, which is in full 
view of the Snowy Range, and overlooks the whole mountain 
landscape. It was like a banner in tlie sky — that white 
church — standing on such a height, as if it were in the cloudsj 
looking across at the mighty range beyond, and smiling a4 
the eternal snows I 



THE girls' school ai dehra doon. 201 

The hardest thing in going round the world, is to break 
away from friends. Not the friends we have left in America, 
for those we may hope to see again, but the friends made 
along the way. One meets so many kind people, and enters 
so many hospitable homes, that to part from them is an ever- 
renewing sorrow and regret. We have found many such 
homes in India, but none in which we would linger more than 
in this lovely Vale of Dehra Doon. 

One attraction is the Girls' School, which we might almost 
call the missionary flower of India. The building, which 
would be a '* Seminary " at home, stands in the midst of 
ample grounds, where, in the intervals of study, the inmates 
can find healthful exercise. The pupils are mostly the 
daughters of native Christians — converted Hindoos or Mo- 
hammedans. Some are orphans, or have been forsaken by 
their parents, and have thus fallen to the care of an institution 
which is more to them than their natural fathers and mothers. 
Many of these young girls had very sweet faces, and all were 
as modest and well behaved as the girls I have seen in any 
similar institution in our own country. Some are adopted by 
friends in America, who engage to provide for their education. 
Wishing to have a part in this good work, we looked about 
the school till we picked out the veriest morsel of a creature, 
as small as Dickens's Tiny Tim — but whose eyes were very 

bright, and her mind as active as her body was frail, and C 

thereupon adopted her and paid down a hundred rupees for a 
year's board and teaching. She is by birth a Mohammedan, 
but will be trained up as a Christian. She is very winning in 
her ways ; and, dear me, when the little creature crept up 
into my lap, and looked up into my face with her great black 
eyes, it was such an appeal for love and protection as I could 
iiot resist ; and when she put her thin arms around my neck, 
I felt richer than if I had been encircled with one of those 
necklaces of pearl, which the Rajahs were just then throwing 
around the neck of the Prince of Wales, 
9* 



202 VISIT TO THE TEA PLANTATICN8. 

Our last day was spent in a visit to the tea plantatic ask 
The culture of tea has been introduced into India within s 
few years, and portions of the country are found so favorable 
that the Jea is thought by many equal to that imported from 
China. Mr. Woodside took us out in a carriage a few miles, 
when we left the road and crossed the fields on the back of an 
elephant, which is a better " coigne of vantage " than the 
back of a horse, as the rider is lifted up higher into the air, 
and in passing under trees can stretch out his hand (as we 
did) and pick blossoms and birds' nests from the branches ; 
but there is a rolling motion a little too much like " life on 
an ocean wave," and if it were not for the glory of the thing 
I confess I should r9,ther have under me some steady old trot- 
ter, such as I have had at home, or even one of the little don- 
keys with which we used to amble about the streets of Cairo. 
But there are times when one would prefer the elephant, as 
if he should chance to meet a tiger ! The beast we were 
riding this morning was an old tiger hunter, that had often 
been out in the jungle, and as he marched off, seemed as if he 
would like nothing better than to smell his old enemy. In a 
deadly combat the tiger has the advantage in quickness of 
motion, and can spring upon the elephant's neck, but if the 
latter can get his trunk around him he is done for, for he is 
instantly dashed to the ground, and trampled to death under 
the monster's feet. We had no occasion to test his courage, 
though, if what we heard was true, he might have found game 
not far off, for a native village through which we passed was 
just then in terror because of a tiger who had lately come 
about and carried ^ff several bullocks only a few da^^s before, 
and they had sent to Mr Bell, a tea planter whom we met 
later in the day, to come and shoot him. He told me he 
would come willingly, but that the natives were of a low 
caste, who had not the Hindoos' horror of touching such food, 
and devoured the half eaten bullock. If, he said, they would 
only let the carcass alone, the tiger always comes back, and 



PROCESS OF PREPARIN TEA. 20S 

he woTiId plant himself in some post of cbservatioL, and \rith 
» rifle which never failed would soon relieve them of their 
tf^rrible enemy. 

After an hour of this cross-country riding, our elephant 
drew up before the door of a large house ; a ladder iraa 
brought, and we clambered down his sides. Just then we 
heard the sharp cracks of a gun, and the planter came in, 
saying that he had been picking off monkeys which were a 
little troublesome in his garden. This was Mr. Nelson, one 
of the largest planters in the valley, with whom we had en- 
gaged to take tiffin. He took us over his plantation, which 
is laid out on a grand scale, many acres being set in rows 
with the tea plant, which is a small shrub, about as large aa 
a gooseberry bush, from which the leaves are carefully picked. 
The green tea is not a different plant from the black tea, but 
only differently prepared. From the plantation we were 
taken to the roasting-house, where the tea lay upon the floor 
in great heaps, like heaps of grain ; and where it is subjected 
to a variety of processes, to prepare it for use or for exporta- 
tion. It is first *' wilted " in large copper pans or ovens ; 
then " rolled " on a table of stretched matting ; then slightly 
dried, and put back in the ovens ; then rolled again ; and 
finally subjected to a good " roasting," by which time every 
drop of moisture is got out of it, and it acquires the peculiar 
twist, or shrivelled look, so well known to dainty lovers of 
the cup which cheers but not inebriates. How perfect was 
the growing and the preparation appeared when we sat down 
at the generous table, where we found the flavor as delicate a3 
that of any we had ever sipped that came from the Flowery 
Land. 

Leaving this kind and hospitable family, we rode on to the 
plantation of Mr. Bell, who had the "engagement" to shoot 
the tiger. He is a brave Scot, very fond of sport, and had 
a room full of stuffed birds, which he was going to send oft' to 
^LUBtralia. Occasionally he had a shot at other game. Onc« 



204 LEAVING THE VALLEY — CAKKIED IN DOOLEYS. 

he had brought down a leopard, and, as he said, thought thfl 
beast was " deed," and went up to him, when the brute gave 
a spring, and tore open his leg, which laid him up fcr two 
months. But such beasts are really less dangerous than the 
cobras, which crawl among the rows of plants, and as the field- 
hands go among them barefoot, some fall victims every year. 
But an Englishman is protected by his boots, and Mr. Bell 
gtrolls about with his dog and his gun, without the slightest 
sense of danger. 

We had now accomplished our visit to the Himalayas, and 
were to bid adieu to the mountains and the valleys. But 
how were we to get back to Saharanpur ? There was the 
mail-wagon and the omnihuckus. But these seemed very 
prosaic after our mountain raptures. Mr. Herron sug- 
gested that we should try dooleys — long palanquins in which 
we could lie down and sleep (perhaps), and thus be carried 
over the mountains at night. As we were eager for new 
experiences, of course we were ready for any novelty. But 
great bodies move slowly, and how great we were we began to 
realize when we found what a force it took to move us. Mr. 
Herron sent for the chaudri — a kind of public carrier whose 
office it is to provide for such services — and an engagement 
was formally entered into between the high contracting par- 
ties that for a certain sum he was to provide two dooleys and 
a sufficient number of bearers, to carry us over the moun- 
tains to Saharanpur, a distance of forty-two miles. This was 
duly signed and sealed, and the money paid on the spot, with 
promise of liberal backsheesh at the end if the agreement 
was satisfactorily performed. 

Thus authorized and empowered to enter into negotiations 
with inferior parties, the chaudri sent forward a courier, or 
sarbarahf to go ahead over the whole route a day in advance, 
and to secure the relays, and thus prepare for our royal 
progress. 

This seemed very magnificent, but when our retinue filed 



IT TA-KES SEVEW'IY MEN TO CAIJKY US. 206 

Into the yard on the evening of our departure, and dre^i^ up 
befere the veranda, we were almost ashamed to see what a 
prodigious ado it took to get us two poor mortals out of the 
v&lley. Our escort was as follows : Each dooley had six 
bearers, or kahars — four to carry it, and two to be ready as a 
reserve. Besides these twelve, there were two hahangi-wal- 
las to carry our one trunk on a bamboo pole, making four- 
teen persons in all. As there were five stages (for one set 
of men could only go about eight miles), it took seventy 
men (besides the two high officials) to carry our sacred per- 
sons these forty- two miles ! Of the reserve of four whc 
walked beside us, two performed the function of torch-bear- 
ers — no unimportant matter when traversing a forest so full 
of wild beasts that the natives cannot be induced to cross it 
at night without lights kept burning. 

The torch was made simply by winding a piece of cloth 
around the end of a stick, and pouring oil upon it from a 
bottle carried for the purpose (just the mode of the wise 
virgins in the parable). Our kind friends had put a mat- 
tress in each dooley, with pillows and coverlet, so that if we 
could not quite go to bed, we could make ourselves comforta- 
ble for a night's journey. I took off my boots, and wrapping 
my feet in the soft fur of the skin of the Himalayan goat, 
which I had purchased in the mountains, stretched myself 

Like a warrior taking his rest, 
With his martial cloak around him, 

and bade the cavalcade take up its march. They lighted 
their torches, and like the wise virgins, " took oil in their 
vessels with their lamps," and set out on our night journey. 
At first we wound our way through the streets of the town, 
through bazaars and past temples, till at last we emerged 
from all signs of human habitation, and were alone with the 
forests and the stars. 

When we were fairly in the woods, all the stories I had 



206 STORIEB OF TIOEB8 

heard of wild b<^asts came back to me. For a week pas'. 1 
had been listening to thrilling incidents, jnsiJiy of vhich 
occurred in this very mountain pass. The Sewaiic range is 
entirely uninhabited except along the roads, and is thus 
given up to wild beasts, and nowhere is one more likely to 
meet an adventure. That very morning, at breakfast, Mrs. 
Woodside had given me her experience. She was once 
crossing this pass at night, and as it came near the break of 
day she saw men running, and heard the cry of '* tiger," but 
thought little of it, as the natives were apt to give false 
alarms ; but presently the horses began to rear and plunge, 
80 that the driver loosed them and let them go, and just then 
she heard a tremendous roar, which seemed close to the wag- 
on, where a couple of the brutes had come down to drink 
of a brook by the roadside. She was so terrified that she 
did not dare to look out, but shut at once the windows of 
the gharri. Presently some soldiers came up the pass witt 
elephants, who went in pursuit, but the monsters had 
retreated into the forest. 

That was some years ago, but such incidents may still hap- 
pen. Onl^ a few weeks since Mr. Woodside was riding 
through the pass at night in the mail-wagon, and had 
dropped asleep, when his companion, a British officer, awoke 
him, telling him he had j ust seen a couple of tigers distinctly 
in the moonlight. 

One would suppose we were safe enough with more than a 
dozen attendants, but the natives are very timid, and a 
tiger's roar will set tbem flying. A lady at Dehra, the 
daughter of a missionary, told us how she was once carr^'ed 
with her mother and one or two other children in dooleys, 
when just at break of day a huge tiger walked out of a 
wood, and came right towards them, when the brave coolies 
at once dropped them and ran, leaving the mother and hef 
children to their fate. Fortunately she had presecce of 
mind to light a piece of matting, and throw it out to the 



AND WILD ELEPHANTS. 2^? 

bmte, who either from that, or perhaps because he was too 
noble a beast to attack a woman, after eyeing them for Hom« 
moments, deliberately walked away. 

Such associations with the road we were travelling, gav© 
an excitement to our night journey which was not the most 
composing to sleep. It is very well to sit by the fireside 
and talk about tigers, but I do not know of anybody who 
would care to meet one in the woods, unless well armed and 
on an elephant's back. 

But what if a wild elephant should come out upon us? 
In general, I believe these are quiet and peaceable beasts, but 
they are subject to a kind of madness which makes them un- 
tamable. A "rogue elephant" — one who has been tamed, 
and afterwards goes back to his savage state — is one of the 
most dangerous of wild beasts. When the Prince of Wales 
was hunting in the Terai with Sir Jung Bahadoor, an alarm 
was given that a rogue elephant was coming, and they pushed 
the Prince up into a tree as quickly as possible, for the monstei 
has no respect to majesty. Mrs. Woodside told me that they 
once had a servant who asked to go home to visit his friends. 
On his way he lay down at the foot of a tree, and fell asleep, 
when a rogue elephant came along, and took him up like a 
kitten, and crushed him in an instant, and threw him on the 
roadside. 

The possibility of such an adventure was quite enough to 
keep our imagination in lively exercise. Our friends had 
told us that there was no danger with flaming torches, al 
tjiough we might perhaps hear a distant roar on the moun- 
tfdns, or an elephant breaking through the trees. We listened 
intently. When the men were moving on in silence, we 
strained our ears to catch any sound that might break the 
stillness of the forest. If a branch fell from a tree, it might 
be an elephant coming through the wood. If we could not 
Bee, we imagined forms gliding in the darkness. Even the 
shadows ca^st by the starlight took i— pes that we drer dea 



208 TRAVERSING THE FOREST. 

Hush ! there is a stealthy step over the fallen leaves. No, 
it is the wind whispering in the trees. Thus was it all night 
long. If any wild beasts glared on us out of the covert, oui 
flaming torches kept them at a respectful distance. We did 
not hear the tramp of an elephant, the growl of a tiger, or 
Bven the cry of a jackal. 

But though we had not the excitement of an adventure, 
the scene itself was wild and weird enough. We were en- 
tirely alone, with more than a dozen men, with not one of 
whom we could exchange a single word, traversing a moun- 
tain pass, with miles of forest and jungle separating us from 
Any habitation. Our attendants were men of powerful phy- 
sique, whose swarthy limbs and strange faces looked more 
strange than ever by the torchlight. Once in seven or eight 
miles they set down their burden. We halted at a camp fire 
by the roadside, where a fresh relay was waiting. There our 
fourteen men were swelled to twenty-eight. Then the cur- 
tain of my couch was gently drawn aside, a black head was 
thrust in, and a voice whispered in the softest of tones 
^* Sahib, backsheesh ! " Then the new bearers took up their 
load, and jogged on their way. 

I must say they did very well. The motion was not un- 
pleasant. The dooley rested not on two poles, but on one 
long bamboo, three or four inches in diameter, at each end of 
which two men braced themselves against each other, and 
moved forward with a swinging gait, a kind of dog trot, 
which they accompanied with a low grunt, which seemed to 
relieve them, and be a way of keeping time. Their burdens 
iid not fatigue them much — at least they did not groan under 
the load, but talked and laughed by the way. Nor were 
luxuries forgotten. One of the men carried a hooka, which 
served for the whole party, being passed from mouth to 
mouth, with which the men, when off duty, refreshed them* 
selves with many a puff of the fragrant weed. 

Thus refreshed they kept up a steady gait of about thros 



RETURN TO 8AHARANPUR. 209 

Diilej an hour through the night. At length th 5 day began 
to break. As we approached the end of our journey the 
men pricked up speed, and I thought they would come in on 
a run. Glad were we to come in sight of Saharanpur. At 
ten o'clock we entered the Mission Compound, and drew up 
before the door of " Calderwood Padre," who, as he saw me 
stretched out at full length, " like a warrior taking his rest," 
if not " with his martial cloak around him," yet with his 
Scotch plaid shawl covering " his manly Dreaat," declared 
that I was ^' an old Indian 1 " 



CHAPTER XVt 

I'HE TRAGEDY OF CAWNPORE. 

fhe interest of India is not wholly in the far histc ric p£>st<. 
V; tthin our own times it has been the theatre of stirring 
eTieucs. In coming down from Upper India, we passed over 
the •" dark and bloody ground " of the Mutiny — one of the 
most lii<!»rrible struggles of modern times — a struggle unrelieved 
by any of the amenities of civilized warfare. On the banks 
of the Ganges stands a dull old city, of which Bayard Taylor 
once wrot/c : '^ Cawnpore is a pleasant spot, though it con- 
tains nothing whatever to interest the traveller." That was 
true when he saw it, twenty-four years ago. It was then a 
*^ sleepy " pla»5e. Everything had a quiet and peaceful look. 
The river flowed peacefully along, and the pretty bungalovN^s 
of the English residents on its banks seemed like so many 
castles of indolence, as they stood enclosed in spacious 
grounds, under the shade of trees, whose leaves scarcely 
stirred in the sultry air. But four years after that American 
traveller had passed, that peaceful river ran with Christian 
blood, and that old Indian town witnessed scenes of cruelty 
worse than that of the Black Hole of Calcutta, committed by 
a monster more inhuman than Surajah Dowlah. The mem- 
ory of those scenes now gives a melancholy interest to the 
place, such as belongs to no other in India. 

It was midnight when we reached Cawnpore (we had left 
Saharanpur in the morning), and we were utter strangers ; 
but as we stepped from the railway carriage, a stalwart Amer- 
ican (Ray . Mr. Mansell of the Methodist Mission) came ur»^ 



THE MUTINY IN 1857. 211 

and calling us by name, took us to his home, and " kindly 
entreated us," and the next morning rode about the city with 
us to show the sadly memorable places. 

The outbreak of the Mutiny in India in 1857, took ita 
English rulers by surprise. They had held the country foi 
a hundred years, and thought they could hold it forever. Sc 
secure did they feel that they had reduced their army to a 
minimum. In the Hussian war, regiment after regiment was 
called home to serve in the Crimea, till there were left not 
more than twenty thousand British troops in all India — an 
insignificant force to hold such a vast dependency ; and weak- 
ened still more by being scattered in small bodies over the 
country, with no means of rapid concentration. There was 
hardly a railroad in India. All movements of troops had to 
be made by long marches. Thus detached and helpless, the 
military power was really in the hands of the Sepoys, who 
garrisoned the towns, and whom the English had trained to be 
good soldiers, with no suspicion that their skill and discipline 
would ever be turned against themselves. 

This was the opportunity for smothered discontent to 
break out into open rebellion. There had long been among 
the people an uneasy and restless feeling, such as is the pre- 
cursor of revolution — a ground swell, which sometimes comes 
before as well as after a storm. It was just a hundred years 
since the battle of Plassey (fought June, 1757), which decid- 
ed the fate of India, and it was whispered that when the cen- 
tury was complete, the English yoke should be broken, and 
India should be free. The Crimean war had aroused a spirit 
of fanaticism among the Mohammedans, which extended 
across the whole of Asia, and fierce Moslems believed that if 
the English were but driven out, there might be a reconstruc 
tion of the splendid old Mogul Empire. This was, therefore, 
a critical moment, in which the defenceless state of India 
offered a temptation to rebellion. Some there were (like the 
liawreuoes — Sir John in the Punjaub, and Sir Henry in 



212 DEFENCE OF CAWNPOEE. 

Lucknow) whose eyes were opened to the danger, and wh<i 
warned the government. But it could not believe a rebellion 
was possible ; so that when the storm burst, it was like « 
peal of thunder from a clear sky. 

Thus taken by surprise, and off their guard, the English 
were at a great disadvantage. But they quickly recovered 
themselves, and prepared for a desperate defence. In towns 
where the garrisons were chiefly of native troops, with only 
a small nucleus of English officers and soldiers, the latter had 
no hope of safety, but to rally all on whom they could rely, 
and retreat into the forts, and hold out to the last. Such a 
quick movement saved Agra, where Sir William Muir told 
me, he and hundreds of refugees with him, passed the whole 
time of the mutiny, shut up in the fort. The same prompt- 
ness saved Allahabad. But in Delhi, where the rising took 
place a few days before, the alarm was not taken quickly 
enough ; the Sepoys rushed in, shooting down their officers, 
and made themselves masters of the fort and the city, which 
was not retaken till months after, at the close of a long and 
terrible siege. 

At Cawnpore there was no fort. Sir Hugh Wheeler, who 
was in command, had three or four thousand troops, but not 
one man in ten was an English soldier. The rest were 
Sepoys, who caught the fever of disaffection, and marched off 
with horses and guns. Mustering the little remnant of his 
force, he threw up intrenchments on the parade-ground, int 
which he gathered some two hundred and fifty men of differ- 
ent regiments. Adding to these " civilians " and native 
servants, and the sick in the hospital, there were about 
300 more, with 330 women and children. The latter, of 
course, added nothing to the strength of the garrison, but 
were a constant subject of care and anxiety. But with this 
little force he defended himself bravely for several weeks, 
beating off every attack of the enemy. But he was in no 
condition to sustain a siege ; his force was becoming rapidlj 



THB BUEEENDEE — MEN SHOT DOWN IN THE BOATS. 213 

I educed, while foes were swarming around him. In this ex- 
fcrs^mity, uncertain when an English army could come to his 
relief, he received a proposal to surrender, with the promise 
that all — men, women, and children — should be allowed to 
depart in safety, and be provided with boats to take them 
down the Ganges to Allahabad. He did not listen to these 
smooth promises without inward misgivings. He was suspi 
cious of treachery ; but the case was desperate, and Nana 
Sahib, who up to the time of the Mutiny had protested great 
friendship for the Englisli, took a solemn oath that they should 
be protected. Thus tempted, they yielded to the fatal surren 
der. 

The next morning, June 27th, those who were left of the 
little garrison marched out of their intrenchments, and were 
escorted by the Sepoy army on their way to the boats. The 
fveraen and children and wounded were mounted on ele- 
phants, and thus conveyed down to the river. With eager- 
ness they embarked on the boats that were to carry them to 
a place of safety, and pushed oif into the stream. At that 
moment a native officer who stood on the bank raised his 
sword, and a masked battery opened on the boats with grape- 
shot. Instantly ensued a scene of despair. Some of the 
boats sunk, others took fire, and men, women, and children, 
were struggling in the water. The Mahratta horsemen 
pushed into the stream, and cut down the men who tried to 
save themselves (only four strong swimmers escaped), while 
the women and children were spared to a worse fate. All 
the men who were brought back to the shore were massacred 
on the spot, in the presence of this human tiger, who feasted 
his eyes with their blood ; and about two hundred women 
and children were taken back into the town as prisoners, in 
deeper wretchedness than before. They were kept in ckse 
confinement nearly three weeks in dreadful uncertainty of 
their fate, till the middle of July, when Havelock was ap 
proaching by forced marches; and fearful that his prej 



214 MASSACRE OF THE WOMEN. 

should escape, Nana Sahib gave orders that they should b€ 
put to death. No element of horror was wanting in that 
fearful tragedy. Says one who saw the bodies the next day, 
and whose wife and children were among those who per- 
ished : 

' ' The poor ladies were ordered to come out, but neither threats 
noi persuasions could induce them to do so. They laid hold of each 
other by dozens, and clung so close that it was impossible to sepa- 
rate them, or drag them out of the building. The troopers there- 
fore brought muskets, and after firing a great many shots from the 
doors and windows, rushed in with swords and bayonets. [One ac- 
count says that, as Hindoos shrink from the touch of blood, five 
Mohammedan butchers were sent in to complete the work.] Some 
of the helpless creatures, in their agony, fell down at the feet of 
their murderers, clasped their legs, and begged in the most pitiful 
manner to spare their lives, but to no purpose. The fearful deed 
was done most deliberately, and in the midst of the most dreadful 
shrieks and cries of the victims. From a little before sunset till 
candlelight was occupied in completing the dreadful deed. The 
ioors of the building were then locked up for the night, and the 
murderers went to their homes. Next morning it was found, on 
opening the doors, that some ten or fifteen women, with a few of 
the children, had managed to escape from death by falling and hid- 
ing under the murdered bodies of their fellow-prisoners. A fresh 
order was therefore sent to murder them also ; but the survivors, 
not being able to bear the idea of being cut down, rushed out into 
the compound, and seeing a well, threw themselves into it without 
hesitation, thus putting a period to lives which it was impossible for 
them to save. The dead bodies of those murdered on the preceding 
evening were then ordered to be thrown into the same well, and 
'juUars' were employed to drag them along like dogs." * 

The next day after the massacre, Havelock entered the 
city, and officers and men rushed to the prison house, hop 

* ' ' Narrative of Mr. Shepherd. " He owed his escape to the fad 
that before the surrender of the garrison he had made an attempt 
bo pass through the rebel lines and carry word to Allahabad to has- 
ten the march of troops to its relief, and had been taken an* throwf 
Into prison, and was there at the time of the massacre. 



ARRIVAL OF THE ENGLISH. 21 £ 

Ing to )>3 iu time to save that unhappy company of English 
women and children. But what horrors met their sight ! 
ISTot on< living remained. The place showed traces of the 
late butchery. The floors were covered with blood. " Upon 
the walls and pillars were the marks of bullets, and of cuts 
i.aade by sword-strokes, not high up as if men had fought 
with men, but low down, and about the corners, where the 
poor crouching victims had been cut to pieces." *' Locks of 
long silky hair, torn shreds of dress, little children's shoes 
and playthings, were strewn around." 

The sight of these things drove the soldiers to madness, 
" When they entered the charnel house, and read the writ- 
ing on the walls [sentences of wretchedness and despair], 
and saw the still clotted blood, their grief, their rage, their 
desire for vengeance, knew no bounds. Stalwart, bearded 
men, the stern soldiers of the ranks, came out of that house 
perfectly unmanned, utterly unable to repress their emo- 
tions." Following the track of blood from the prison to the 
well, they found the mangled remains of all that martyred com- 
pany. There the tender English mother had been cast with 
every indignity, and the child still living thrown down to die 
upon its mother's breast. Thus were they heaped together, 
the dying and the dead, in one writhing, palpitating mass. 

Turning away from this ghastly sight, the soldiers asked 
only to meet face to face the perpetrators of these horrible 
atrocities. But the Sepoys, cowardly as they were cruel, 
fled at the approach of the English. Those who were taken 
had to sufier for the whole. '' All the rebel Sepoys and 
troopers who were captured, were collectively tried by a 
drumhead court-martial, and hanged." But for such a crime 
as the cold-blooded murder of helpless women and children, 
death was not enough — it should be death accompanied by 
shame and degradation. The craven wretches were made tc 
clean away the clotted blood — a task peculiarly odious to a 
Hindoo. Says General Neill : 



216 PUNISHMENT OF THE REBELS 

*' Whenever a rebel is caught, he is immediately tried, and anleat 
he can prove a defence, he is sentenced to be hanged at once ; but 
the chief rebels, or ringleaders, I make first clear up a certain per- 
tion of the pool of blood, still two inches deep in the shed where the 
fearful murder and mutilation of women and children took place. 
To touch blood is most abhorrent to the high -caste natives ; they 
think by doing so, they doom their souls to perdition. Let them 
ihink so My object is to inflict a fearful punishment for a revolting, 
cowardly, and barbarous deed, and to strike terror into these rebels. 

*' The first I caught was a subahdar, or native officer — a high-caste 
Brahmin, who tried to resist my order to clean up the very blood he 
had helped to shed ; but I made the provost-marshal do his duty 
and a few lashes made the miscreant accomplish his task. When 
done, he was taken out and immediately hanged, and after death, 
buried in a ditch at the roadside. No one who has witnessed the 
scenes of murder, mutilation, and massacre, can ever listen to the 
word mercy, as applied to these fiends. 

" Among other wretches drawn from their skulking places, was 
the man who gave Nana Sahib's orders for the massacre. After this 
man's identity had been clearly established, and his complicity in di- 
recting the massacre proved beyond all doubt, he was compelled, 
upon his knees, to cleanse up a portion of the blood yet scattered over 
the fatal yard, and while yet foul from his sickening task, hung like 
a dog before the gratified soldiers, one of whom writes : ' The col- 
lector who gave the order for the murder of the poor ladies, was 
taken prisoner day before yesterday, and now hangs from a branch 
of a tree about two hundred yards ofE the roadside. ' " 

What b(3came of Nana Sahib after the Mutiny, is 
a mystery that probably will never be solved. If he 
lived he sought safety in flight. Many of the Mutineers 
took refuge in the jungle. The Government kept up a hur.l 
for him for years. Several times it was thought that he was 
discovered. Only a year or two ago a man was arrested^ 
who was said to be Nana Sahib, but it proved to be a case oi 
mistaken identity. In going up from Delhi we rode in the 
same railway carriage with an old army surgeon, whose tes- 
timony saved the life of the suspected man. He had lived 
in Cawnpore before the Mutiny, and knew Nana Sahib well. 



STERN EETEIBUTION. 217 

indeed had been bis physician, and gave me mucli informa- 
tion about the bloody Mahratta chief. He said he was not 
BO bad a man by nature, as he became when he was put for- 
ward as a leader in a desperate enterprise, and surrounded 
by men who urged him on to every crime. So long as he wafl 
under the wholesome restraint of English power, he was a 
fair specimen of the " mild Hindoo," " as mild a mannered 
man as ever scuttled ship or cut a throat.'' His movement 
was as soft as that of a cat or a tiger. But like the tiger, 
when once he tasted blood, it roused the wild beast in him, 
and he took a delight in killing. And so he who might have 
lived quietly, and died in his bed, with a reputation not worse 
than that of other Indian rulers, has left a name in history 
as the most execrable monster of modern times. It seems a 
defeat of justice that he cannot be discovered and brought to 
the scaffold. But perhaps the judgment of God is more se- 
vere than that of man. If he still lives, he has suffered a 
thousand deaths in these twenty years. 

My informant told me of the punishment that had come 
on many of these men of blood. Ketribution followed hard 
after their crimes. When the rebellion was subdued, it was 
stamped out without mercy. The leaders were shot away 
from guns. Others who were only less guilty had a short 
trial and a swift punishment. In this work of meting out 
retribution, this mild physician was himself obliged to be an 
instrument. Though his profession was that of saving lives, 
and not of destroying them, after the Mutiny he was ap- 
pointed a Commissioner in the district of Gawnpore, where 
he had lived, to try insurgents, with the power of life and 
death, and with no appeal from his sentence ! It was a 
terrible responsibility, but he could not shrink from it, and 
he had to execute many. Those especially who had been 
guilty of acts of cruelty, could not ask for mercy whic}\ "^hey 
had never shown. Among those whom he captured was the 
native officer who had given the signal, by raising his sword 
10 



218 THE WELL. 

to the masked battery to fire on the boats. He said, "1 
took him to that very spot, and hung him there ! " All this 
Bad history was in mind as we went down to the banks of the 
Ganges, where that fearful tragedy took place not twenty 
years before. The place still bears the name of the Slaughter 
Ghat, in memory of that fearful deed. We imagined the 
scene that summer's morning, when the stream was covered 
with the bodies of women and children, and the air was filled 
with the shrieks of despair. With such bitter memories, we 
recalled the swift retribution, and rejoiced that such a crime 
had met with such a punishment. 

From the river we drove to '^ the well," but here nothing 
is painful but its memories. It is holy ground, which pious 
hands have decked with flowers, and consecrated as a shrine 
of martyrdom. Around it many acres have been laid out as 
a garden, with all manner of tropical plants, and well-kept 
paths winding between, along which the stranger walks 
slowly and sadly, thinking of those who suffered so much in 
life, and that now sleep peacefully beyond the reach of pain 
In the centre of the garden the place of the well is enclosed, 
and over the sacred spot where the bodies of the dead were 
thrown, stands a figure in marble, which might be that of the 
angel of Resignation or of Peace, with folded wings and face 
slightly bended, and arms across her breast, and in her hands 
palm-branches, the emblems of victory. 

The visit to these spots, consecrated by so much suffering, 
had an added tenderness of interest, because some of our own 
countrymen and countrywomen perished there. In those 
fearful scenes the blood of Americans — men, women, and chil- 
dren — mingled with that of their English kindred. One of 
the most terrible incidei.ts of those weeks of crime, was the 
massacre of a party from Futteghur that tried to escape 
down the Ganges, hoping to reach Allahabad. As they ap« 
preached Cawnpore, they concealed themselves in the tall 
^.rvMR on an island, but were discovered by the Sepoys, 2J\^ 



MAB8A0RE OF A PARTY FROM FUTTEGHrR. 219 

made prisoners. Some of the party were wealthy English 
residents, who offered a large ransom for their lives. But 
their captors answered roughly : " What they wanted waa 
not money, but blood ! " Brought before Nana Sahib, he 
ordered them instantly to be put to death. Among them 
were four American missionaries, with their wives, who 
showed in that hour of trial that they knew how to suffer and 
to die. Of one of these I had heard a very touching story 
but a few days before from my friend, Mr. Woodside. When 
we were standing on the lower range of the Himalayas, looi- 
ing off to " the snows," he told me how he had once made an 
ex2)edition with a brother missionary among these mountains, 
which are full of villages, like the hamlets in the High Alps. 
He pointed out in the distance the very roube they took, and 
even places on the sides of the successive ranges where they 
pitched their tents. They started near the close of Septem- 
ber, and were out all October, and came in about the middle 
of November, being gone six weeks. After long and weary 
marches for many days, they came to a little village called 
Karsaii near Jumnootree, the source of the sacred river Jum- 
na, near which rose a giant peak, 19,000 feet high (though we 
could but just see it on the horizon), that till then had never 
been trodden by human foot, but which they, like the daring 
Americans they were, determined to ascend. Their guides 
shrank from the attempt, and refused to accompany them ; 
but they determined to make the ascent if they went alone, 
and at last, rather than be left behind, their men followed, 
although one sank down in the snow, and could not reach the 
summit. But the young missionaries pressed on with fresh 
B.rdor, as they climbed higher and higher. As they reached 
vlie upper altitudes, the summi+, which to us at a distance of 
fdnety miles seemed but a peak or cone, broadened out into 
a plateau of miles in extent ; the snow was firm and hard • 
t.iey feared no crevasse?, and strode on with fearless steps. 
But there was something awful in the silence and the soli 



220 HOW AN AMERICAN MISSIONARY DIED. 

tude. Not a living thing could be seen on the face of earti 
or skj . Not a bird soared to such heights ; not an eagle oi 
a vulture was abroad in search of prey ; not a bone on the 
waste of snow told where any adventurous explorer had per- 
ished before them. Alone they marched over the fields of 
untrodden snow, and started almost to hear their own voices 
in that upper air. And yet such was their sense of free- 
dom, that they could not contain their joy. My companion, 
said Mr. Woodside, was very fond of a little hymn in Hindoa • 
tanee, a translation of the familiar lines : 

I'm a pilgrira, I'm a stranger, 
And I tarry but a night, 

and as we went upward, he burst into singing, and sang joy« 
ously as he strode over the fields of snow. Little he thought 
that the end of his pilgrimage was so near ! But six months 
later the Mutiny broke out, and he was one of its first vic- 
tims. He was of the party from Futteghur, with a fate 
nade more dreadful, because he had with him not only his 
«dfe, but two children, and the monster spared neither age 
tior sex. After the Mutiny, Mr. Woodside visited Cawn- 
pore, and made diligent inquiry for the particulars of his 
friend's death. It was difficult to get the details, as the 
natives were very reticent, lest they shoiild be accused ; but 
as near as he could learn, " Brother Campbell," as he spoke 
of him, was led out with his wife — he holding one child 
in his arms, and she leading another by the hand — and thus 
■ill together they met their fate ! Does this seem very hard? 
Yet was it not sweet that they could thus die together, and 
could come up (like the family of Christian in Pilgrim's 
Progress) in one group to the wicket gate ? Ko need had 
he to sing any more : 

I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger, 
And I tarry but a night, 



VICTOKT THROUGH DEATH. 221 

for ou that summer morning he passed np a shining pathway, 
whiter than the fields of snow on the crest of th.e Himalayas 
that led him straight to the gates of gold. Let no man com- 
plain of the sacrifice, who would claim the reward ; for so i! 
is written, " It is through much tribulation that we laTig' 
rater into the Kingdom of God." 



CHAPTER XVn. 

THE STORY OP LUCKNOW. 

** You are going to Lucknow ? " she said. It was a laJj 
in black, who sat in the corner of the railway carriage, as 
we came down from Upper India. A cloud passed over her 
face. ** I cannot go there ; I was in the Residency during 
the siege, and my husband and daughter were killed there. 
I cannot revisit a place of such sad memories." It was 
nothing to her that the long struggle had ended in victory, 
and that the story of the siege was one of the most glorious 
in English history. Nothing could efface the impression of 
those months of suffering. She told us how day and night 
the storm of fire raged around them ; how the women took 
refuge in the cellars ; how her daughter was killed before 
her eyes by the bursting of a shell ; and how, when they 
grew familiar with this danger, there came another terrible 
fear — that of death by famine ; how strong men grew weak 
for want of food ; how women wasted away from very hun- 
ger, and children died because they could find no nourish 
ment on their mother's breasts. 

But amid those horrors there was one figure which she 
love|d to recall — that of Sir Henry Lawrence, the lion- 
hearted soldier, who kept up all hearts by his courage and 
his iron will — till he too fell, and left them almost in de- 
spair. 

Such memories might keep away one who had been a suf- 
ferer in these fearful scenes, but they stimulated our (lesire 
to see a spot associated with such courage and devotion, and 



CAWNPORE TO LUCKNOW. 223 

led us from the scene of the tragedy of Cawnpore to that of 
the eicge of Lncknow. 

Bwt how soon nature washes awaj' the stain of blood ! 
As we crossed the Ganges, the gentle stream, rippling against 
the Slaughter Ghat, left no red spots upon its stony steps, 
N^ear the station was a large enclosure full of elephants, some 
of which perhaps had carried their burden of prisoners down 
to the river's brink on that fatal day, but were now " taking 
their ease," as beasts and men like to do. Familiar as we 
are with the sight, it always gives us a fresh impression of 
our Asiatic surroundings, to come suddenly upon a herd of 
these creatures of such enormous bulk, with ears as large aa 
umbrellas, which are kept moving like punkas to keep off 
the flies ; to see them drawing up water into their trunks, 
as "Behemoth drinketh up Jordan," and spurting it over 
their backs ; or what is more ludicrous still, to see them at 
play, which seems entirely out of character. We think of 
the elephant as a grave and solemn creature, made to figure 
on grand occasions, to march in triumphal processions, carry- 
ing the howdahs of great E^ajahs, covered with cloth of gold. 
But there is as much of " youth " in the elephant as in any 
other beast. A baby elephant is like any other baby. Aa 
little tigers play like kittens, so a little elephant is like a colt, 
or like " Mary's little lamb." 

Lucknow is only forty miles from Cawnpore, with which 
it is connected by railway. A vast plain stretches to the 
gates of the capital of Oude. It was evening when we 
reached our destination, where another American friend, 
Bev. Mr. Mudge of the Methodist Mission, was waiting to 
receive us. A ride of perhaps a couple of miles through the 
atreets and bazaars gave us some idea of the extent of a city 
which ranks among the first in India. Daylight showed ua 
still more of its extent and its magnificence. It spreads out 
nany miles over the plain, and has a population of three 
hundred thousand, while in spiciidor it is the first of th* 



224 THE CITY OF LDCKNOW. 

nati've cities of India — by native I mean one not taking iti 
character, like Calcutta and Bombay, from tbe English ele- 
ment. Lucknow is more purely an Indian city, and haa 
more of the Oriental style in its architecture — its domes and 
minarets reminding us of Cairo and Constantinople. Bayard 
Taylor says : *' The coup d'oeil from one of the bridges ovei 
the Goomtee, resembles that of Constantinople from the bridge 
over the Golden Horn, and is more imposing, more pictur- 
esque, and more truly Oriental than any other city in India." 
It is a Mohammedan city, as much as Delhi, the mosques 
quite overshadowing the Hindoo temples ; and the Mohur- 
rim, the great Moslem festival, is observed here with the 
same fanaticism. But it is much larger than Delhi, and 
though no single palaces equal those of the old Moguls, yet it 
has more the appearance of a modern capital, in its busy 
and crowded streets. It is a great commercial city, with rich 
merchants, with artificers in silver and gold and all the 
fabrics of the East. 

But the interest of Lucknow, derived from the fact of its 
being one of the most populous cities of India, and one of 
the most splendid, is quite eclipsed by the thrilling events 
of its recent history. All its palaces and mosques have not 
the attraction of one sacred spot. This is the Residency, 
the scene of the siege, which will make the name of Luck 
now immortal. How the struggle came, we may see by 
recalling one or two facts in the history of India. 

A quarter of a century ago, this was not a part of the 
British possessions. It was the Kingdom of Oude, with a 
sovereign who still lives in a palace near Calcutta, with large 
revenues wherewith to indulge his royal pleasure, but 
without his kingdom, which the English Government has 
taken from him. This occurred just before the Mutiny, 
and has often been alleged as one of the causes, if not th^ 
cause, of the outbreak ; and England has been loudly ac- 
cused of perfidy and treachery towards an Indian prinoei, 



THE KING OF OUDE. 225 

ani of having brought upon herself the terrible events which 
followed. 

No doubt the English Governpcjent has often carried things 
with a high hand in India, and done ac ts which cannot be 
defended, just as we must confess that our own Government, 
in dealing with our Indian tribes, has sometimes seemed to 
ignore both j ustice and mercy. But as to this king of Oude, 
his ** right" to his dominion (which is, being interpreted, a 
right to torture his unhappy subjects) is about the same as 
the right of a Bengal tiger to his jungle — a right which 
holds good till some daring hunter can put an end to his 
career. 

When this king ruled in Oude he was such a father to hia 
peoplfi, and such was the affection felt for his paternal govern- 
ment, that he had to collect his taxes by the military, and it 
is said that the poor people in the country built their villages 
on the borders of the jungle, and kept a watch out for the 
approach of the soldiers. As soon as they were signalled as 
being in sight, the wretched peasants gathered up whatever 
they could carry, and fled into the jungle, preferring to face 
the wild beasts and the serpents rather than these mercena- 
ries of a tyrant. The troops came, seized what was left and 
set fire to the village. After they were gone, the miserable 
people returned and rebuilt their mud hovels, and tried by 
tilling the soil, to gain a bare subsistence. Such was the 
patriarchal government of one of the native princes of 
India. 

This king of Oude now finds his chief amusement in col- 
lecting a great menagerie. He has a very large number of 
wild beasts. He has also a " snakery," in which he haa 
collected all the serpents of India. It must be confessed 
that such a man seems more at home among his tigers 
and cobras than in oppressing his wretched people. If 
Americans who visit his palace near Calcutta are moved to 
Bj'^mpathy with this deposed king, let them remember what 
10* 



'-526 Sm HENBY LAWBENOB 

his government was, and they may feel a little pity for hit 
miserable subjects. 

To put such a monster off the throne, and thus put an end 
to his tyrannies, was about as much of a " crime *" as it 
should be to restrain the king of Dahomey or of Ashantee 
from perpetuating his " Grand Custom." I am out of 
patience with this mawkish sympathy. There is too much 
real misery in the world that calls for pity and relief, to have 
us waste our sensibilities on those who are the scourges of 
mankind. 

But once done, the deed ecald not be undone. Having 
seized the bull by the horns, it was necessary to hold him, 
and this was not an easy matter. It needed a strong hand, 
which was given it in Sir Henry Lawrence, who had been 
thirty years in India. Hardly had he been made governor 
before he felt that there was danger in the air. Neither he 
nor his brother John, the Governor of the Punjaub, were 
taken by surprise when the Mutiny broke out. Both ex- 
pected it, and it did not find them unprepared. Oude was 
indeed a centre of rebellion. The partisans of the ex-king 
were of course very active, so that when the Sepoys muti- 
nied at Meerut, near Delhi, the whole kingdom of Oude waa 
in open revolt. Every place was taken except Lucknow, 
and that was saved only by the wisdom and promptness of 
its new governor. 

His first work was to fortify the Kesidency (so called from 
having been occupied by the former English residents), which 
had about as much of a militar^f character as an old English 
manor-house. The grounds covered some acres, on which 
were scattered a few buildings, official residences and guard- 
houses, with open spaces between, laid out in lawns and 
gardens. But the quick eye of the governor saw its capa- 
bility of defence. It was a small plateau, raised a few feet 
above the plain around, and by connecting the different 
buildings by walls, which could be mounted with batteriei 



FORTIFIES THE EESIDENCY. 22'ii 

and loopholed for musketry, the whole could be constructed 
into a kind of fortress. Into this he gathered the European 
residents with their women and children. And behind such 
rude defences a few hundred English soldiers, with as manj 
natives who had proved faithful, kept a large army at baj 
for six months. 

There was a fort in Lucknow well supplied with guns and 
ammunition, but it was defended by only three hundred 
men, and was a source of weakness rather than strength, 
since the English force was too small to hold it, and if it 
should fall into the hands of the Sepoys with all its stores, it 
"would be the arsenal of the rebellion. At Delhi a similar 
danger had been averted only by a brave officer blowing up 
the arsenal with his own hand. It was a matter of the 
utmost moment to destroy the fort and yet to save the 
soldiers in it. The only hope of keeping up any defence was 
to unite the two feeble garrisons. But they were more than 
half a mile apart, and each beleaguered by watchful enemies. 
Sir Henry Lawrence signalled to the officer in command : 
" Blow up the fort, and come to the Residency at twelve 
o'clock to-night. Bring your treasure and guns, and destroy 
the remainder." This movement could be executed only by 
the greatest secrecy. But the order was promptly obeyed. 
At midnight the little band filed silently out of the gates, 
and stole with muffled steps along a retired path, almost 
within reach of the guns of the enemies, who discovered the 
movement only when they were safe in the Residency, and 
the fuse which had been lighted at the fort reached the 
magazine, and exploding two hundred and fifty barrels of 
gunpowder, blew the massive walls into the air. 

But the siege was only just begun. Inside the Residency 
"were collected about two thousand two hundred souls, of 
"whom over five hundred were women and children. Only 
about six hundred were Eni'lish soldiers, and seven or eiohi 
hundred natives who had remained faithful, held to their sd 



228 THE NATIVE SOLDIEKS. 

legituicfc by the personal ascendancy of Sir Henry Lawrence^ 
There were also some three hundred civilians, who, though 
unused to arms, willingly took part in the defence. Thus 
all together the garrison did not exceed seventeen hundred 
men, of whom many were disabled by sickness and wounds^. 
The force of the besiegers was twenty to one. There is in 
the Indian nature a strange mL\ture of languor and ferocity, 
and the latter wa^ aroused by the prospect of vengeance on the 
English, who were penned up where they could not escape, 
and where their capture was certain ; and every Sepoy wished 
to be in at the death. Under the attraction of such a pros- 
pect it is said that the besieging force rose to fifty thousand 
men. Many of the natives, who had been in the English 
service, were practised artillerists, and trained their guns on 
the slender defences with fat^U effect. Advancing over the 
level sirouud, thev drew theii* lines nearer and nearer, till 
their riliemen picked otf the soldiers serving in the batteries. 
Three times they made a breach by exploding mines under 
the walls, and endeavored to carry the place by storm. But 

* As the historian of the mutmj ha« frequent occasion to speak of 
the treachery of the Sepoys, it should not be forgotten that to this 
there were splendid exceptions ; that some were ' ' found faithful 
among the faithless." Even in the regiments that mutinied there 
were some who were not c^irried away by the general madness ; and, 
when the little remnant of English soldiers retreated into tJie Resi- 
dency, these loy:il natives went with them, and shared all the dan- 
gers and hardships of the siege. Even after it was begun, they were 
exposed to every temptation to seduce them from their allegiance ; 
for as the lines of the besiegers drew closer to the Residency and 
hemmed it in on every side, the assaihints were so neiu: that they 
could t;\lk with those within over the palisades of the intrench- 
ments, and the Sepoys appealed to their late feUow-soldiers bj 
threats, and taunts, and promises ; by pride of race and of ca?te ; bj 
their love of country and of their religion, to betray the garrison 
But not a man deserted his post. Hundreds were killed in the siege 
and their blood mingled with that of their English companions-ia 
arms. History does »iot record a more noble instance of fidelity. 



DEATH OF Sm HENRY LAWKBNOE. 22S 

fchen rose high the unconquerable English spirit. They ex- 
pected to die, but they were determined to .sell their lives 
dearly. When the alarm of these attacks reached the hospi 
tal, the sick and wounded crawled out of their beds and 
threw away their crutches to take their place ai th'3 guns , 
or if they could not stand, lay down flat on theii faces and 
fired through the holes made for musketry. 

But brave as were the defenders, the long endurance told 
upon them. They were worn out with watching, and their 
ranks grew thinner day by day. Those who were killed 
w^re carried off in the arms of their companions, who gathered 
at midnight for their burial in some lonely and retired spot, 
and while the chaplain in a low voice read the service, the 
survivors stood around the grave, thinking how soon their 
turn would come, the gloom of the night in fit harmony with 
the dark thoughts that filled their breasts. 

But darker than any night was the day when Sir Henry 
Lawrence fell. He was the beloved, the adored commander. 
" While he lived," said our informant, " we all felt safe." 
But exposing himself too much, he was struck by a shell. 
Those around him lifted him up tenderly and carried him 
away to the house of the surgeon of the garrison, where two 
days after he died. When all was over " they did not dare 
to let the soldiers know that he was dead," lest they should 
give up the struggle. But he lived long enough to inspire 
them with his unconquerable spirit. 

He died on the 4th of July, and for nearly three months 
the siege went on without change, the situation becoming 
every day more desperate. It was the hottest season of the 
year, and the sun blazed doTrn fiercely into their little camp, 
aggravating the sickness and suffering, till they longed for 
death, and were glad when they covld find the grave. 
** When my daughter was struck down by a fragment of a 
shell that fell on the floor, she did not ask tc live. Sh<t 
might have been saved if she had been where she could haiJi 



*2i\0 FIRST ATTEMPT OF HAVELOOK TO RELIEVE LUOKHOW. 

had careful nursing. But there was no proper food to nour 
ish the strength of the sick, and so she sunk away, feeling 
fchat it was better to die than to live." 

But still they would not yield to despair. Havelock had 
taken Cawnpore, though he came too late to save the Englisl 
from massacre, and was straining every nerve to collect a 
force sufficient to reJieve Lucknow. As soon as he could 
muster a thousand men he crossed the Ganges, and began his 
march. The movement was known to the little garrison, 
and kept up their hopes. A faithful native, who acted as a 
spy throughout the siege, went to and fro, disguising himself, 
and crept through the lines in the night, and got inside the 
Residency, and told them relief was coming. " He had seen 
the general, and said he was a little man with white hair," 
who could be no other than Havelock. Word was sent back 
that, on approaching the city, rockets should be sent up to 
notify the garrison. Night after night officers and men 
gazed toward the west for the expected signal, till their 
hearts grew sick as the night passed and there was no sign. 
Delivei-ance was to come, but not yet. 

Havelock found that he had attempted the impossible. 
His force was but a handful, compared with the hosts of hia 
enemies. Even nature appeared to be against him. It was 
the hot and rainy season, when it seemed impossible to march 
over tlie plains of India. Cannon had to be drawn by bul- 
locks over roads and across fields, where they sank deep in 
mud. Men had to march and fight now in the broiling sun, 
and now in Hoods of rain. " In the full midday heat of the 
worst season of the year, did our troops start. The sun 
struck down with frightful force. At every step a man 
reeled out of the ranks, and threw himself fainting by the 
side of the road ; the calls for water were incessant all along 
the line." " During the interval between the torrents of rain, 
the sun's rays were so overpowering that numbers of the 
men were smitten down and died." But the sarvivort 



HE TDRNS AND DEFEATS NANA SAHIB. 231 

jlosed up their ranks and kept their face to the foe. Their 
spirit was magnificent. Death had lost its terrors for them, 
and they made light of hardships and dangers. When faint- 
ing with heatj if they found a little dirty water by the road- 
side "it was like nectar." After marching all day in the 
rain, they would lie down in the soaking mud, and grasp their 
guns, and wrap their coats around them, and sleep soundly. 
Says an ofiicer : 

"August 5th we marched toward Lucknow nine miles and then 
encamped on a large plain for the night. You must bear in mind 
that we had no tents with us, they are not allowed, so every day we 
vere exposed to the burning sun and to the rain and dew by night 
No baggage or beds were allowed ; but the soldier wrapped his cloals 
around him, grasped his musket and went to sleep, and soundly we 
(slept too. My Arab horse served me as a pillow, I used to lie down 
alongside of him, with my head on his neck, and he never moved 
with me except now and then to lick my hand." But he adds, " We 
found that it was impossible to proceed to Lucknow, for our force 
was too small — for though we were a brave little band, and could 
fight to Lucknow, yet we could not compel them to raise the siege 
when we got there. ' 

Another enemy also had appeared. Cholera had broken 
out in the camp ; eleven men died in one day. The Rebels 
too were rising behind them. As soon as Havelock crossed 
the Ganges they began to gather in his rear. Nana Sahib 
was mustering a force and threatened Cawnpore. Thus beset 
behind and before, Havelock turned and marched against the 
Mahratta chief, and sent him flying towards Delhi. In read- 
ing the account of these marches and battles, it is delightful 
to see the spirit between the commander and his men. After 
this victory, as he rode along the lines, they cheered him 
vehemently. He returned their salute, but said, ^' Don't 
cheer me, my lads, you did it all yourselves.'' Such men, 
fighting together, were invincible. 

In September Havelock had collected 2,700 men, and 
again set out for Lucknow. Three days they marched '' ur de^ 



232 SECOND ATTEMPT FIGHTING THROUGH THE OITT. 

a d3l age of rain." But their eyes were " steadfastly set '^ 
towards the spot where their countrymen were in peril, and 
they oared not for hardships and dangers. The garrison was 
ippiised of their coming, and waited witli feverish anxiety, 
(n the relieving force was a regiment of Highlanders, and if 
no crazy woman could put her ears to the ground (according 
to the romantic story so often told) and hear the pibroch, 
and shout " The Campbells are coming," they knew that those 
brave Scots never turned back. As they drew near the city 
over the Cawnpore road, they found that it was mined to 
blow them up. Instantly they wheeled oflf, and marched 
round the city, and came up on the other side. Capturing 
the Alumbagh, one of the royal residences, which, sur- 
rounded b}^ a wall, was easily converted into a temporary 
fortress, Havelock left here his heavy baggage and stores of 
ammunition, with an immense array of elephants and camels 
and horses ; and all his sick and wounded, and the whole train 
of camp followers ; and three hundred men, with four guns 
to defend it. Thus '* stripped for the fight," he began his 
attack on the city. It was two miles to the Kesidency, and 
every step the English had to fight their way through the 
streets. The battle began in the morning, and lasted all 
day. It was a desperate attempt to force their way through 
a great city, where every man was an enemy, and they were 
tired at from almost every house. " Our advance was 
through streets of flat-roofed and loop-holed houses, each 
forming a separate fortress." Our informant told us of 
the frenzy in the Residency when they heard the sound of 
the guns. " The Campbells were coming " indeed ! Some- 
times the firing lulled, and it seemed as if they were driven 
back. Then it rose again, and came nearer and nearer. 
How the tide of battle ebbed and flowed, is well told in 
the narratives of those who were actors in the scenes : 

" Throughout tlie night of the 24th great agitation and alarm had 
prevailed in the city ; and, as morning advanced, increased and ropid 



THE HIGHLANDEES COMING IN. 283 

moy^ements of men and horses, gave evidence of the excited Btate ot 
the rebel force. At noon, increasing noise proclaimed that street 
fighting was growing more fierce in the distance ; but from the Resi- 
dency nought but the smoke from the fire of the combatants could 
be discerned. As the afternoon advanced, the sounds came nearer 
and nearer, and then we heard the sharp crack of rifles mingled with 
the flash of musketry ; the well-known uniforms of British soldiers 
were next discerned." 

A lady who was in the Residency, and has written a Diary 
of the Siege, thus describes the coming in of the English 
troops : 

"Never shall I forget the moment to the latest day Hive. We 
^ad no idea they were so near, and were breathing the air in the 
portico as usual at that hour, speculating when they might be in ; 
when suddenly just at dusk, we heard a very sharp fire of musketry 
close by, and then a tremendous cheering. An instant after, the 
sound of bagpipes — then soldiers running up the road — our compound 
and veranda filled with our deliverers, and all of us shaking hands 
frantically, and exchanging fervent ' God bless you's ' with the gallant 
men and ofl&cers of the 78th Highlanders. Sir James Outram and 
staff were the next to come in, and the state of joyful confusion and 
excitement was beyond all description. The big, rough-bearded 
soldiers were seizing the little children out of our arms, kissing 
them, with tears rolling down their cheeks, and thanking God 
they had come in time to save them from the fate of those at Cawn- 
pore. We were all rushing about to give the poor fellows drinks of 
water, for they were perfectly exhausted ; and tea was made down 
in the Tye-khana, of which a large party of tired, thirsty oflBcers par- 
took, without milk or sugar. We had nothing to give them to eat. 
Every one's tongue seemed going at once with so much to ask and to 
tell ; and the faces of utter strangers beamed upon each other like 
those of dearest friends and brothers." 

It was indeed a great deliverance, but the danger was no* 
over. Of all that were in the Residency when the siege 
oegan, three months before, more than half were gone. Out of 
twenty-two hundred but nine hundred were left, and of these 
less than one-half were fighting men. Even with the reinforce- 
ment of Havelock the garrison was still far too small to lioU 



234 ARRIVAL OF SIR COLIN CAMPBELL,. 

such a position in the midst of a city of such a population, 
The siege went on for two months longer. The final relief did 
not come till Sir Colin Campbell, arriving with a larger force, 
again fought his way through the city. The atrocities of th« 
Sepoys had produced such a feeling that he could hardly r^ 
strain his soldiers. Remembering the murders and massacres 
of their countrymen and countrywomen, they fought with a 
savage fury. In one walled enclosure, which they carried by 
storm, were two thousand Sepoys, and they killed every man ! 

Even then the work was not completed. Scarcely had Sir 
Colin Campbell entered the Residency before he decided upon 
its evacuation. Again the movement was executed at mid- 
night, in silence and in darkness. While the watch-fires 
were kept burning to deceive the enemy, the men filed out of 
the gates, with the women and children in the centre of the 
column, and moving softly and quickly through a narrow 
lane, in the morning they were several miles from the city, 
in a strong position, which made them safe from attack. 

The joy of this hour of deliverance was saddened by the death 
of Havelock. He had passed through all the dangers of bat- 
tle and siege, only to die at last of disease, brought on by the 
hardships and exposures of the last few months. But his work 
was done. He had nothing to do but to die. To his friend, 
Sir Jaoies Outram, who came to see him, he stretched out his 
hand and said : " For more than forty years I have so ruled 
my life, that when death came, I might face it without fear." 

The garrison was saved, but the city was still in the hands 
of the Kebels, who were as defiant as ever. It was some 
months before Sir Colin Campbell gathered forces sufficient 
for the final and crushing blow. Indeed it was not till win- 
ter that he had collected a really formidable army. Then he 
mo^ed on the city in force and carried it by storm. Two 
days of terrible fighting gave him the mastery of Lucknow, 
and tlie British flag was once more raised over the capital of 
Oude, where it has fioited in triumph unto this day. 



**HE11E LIES ONE WHO IKIED TO DO HIS DUTY." 235 

B it the chief interest gathers about the earlier defence 
The siege of Lucknow is one of the most thrilling events in 
modern history, and may well be remembered with pride by 
all \*ho took part in it. A few weeks before we were here 
the Prince of Wales had made his visit to Lucknow, and re- 
queLted that the survivors of the siege might be presented t(i 
him. Mr. Mudge was present at the interview, and told mo 
he had never witnessed a more affecting scene than when 
these brave old soldiers, the wrecks of the war, some of them 
bearing the marks of their woimds, came up to the Prince, 
and received his warmest thanks for their courage and fidel- 
ity. 

These heroic memories were fresh in mind as we took 
our morning walk in Lucknow, along the very street by 
which Havelock had fought his way through the city. 
The Residency is now a ruin, its walls shattered by shot and 
shell. But the ruins are overrun with vines and creeping 
plants, and are beautiful even in their decay. With sad in- 
terest we visited the spot where Sir Henry Lawrence was 
struck by the fatal shell, and the cemetery in which he is 
buried. He was a Christian soldier and before his death re- 
ceived the communion. He asked that no eulogy might be 
written on his tomb, but only these words : " Here lies 
Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May God have 
mercy on his soul." This dying utterance is inscribed on the 
plain slab of marble that covers his dust. It is enough. No 
e[)itaph could say more. As I stood there and read these 
simple words and thought of the noble dead, my eyes were 
full of tears. With such a consciousness of duty done, who 
could fear to die ? How well do these words express that 
which should be the highest end of human ambition. Happy 
will it be for any man of whom, when he has passed from 
the world, it can with truth be written above his giave, 
"Here lies one who tried to do his duty ! " 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE ENGLISH RULE IN INDIA. 

In reviewing the terrible scenes of the Mutiny, one can- 
not help asking whether such scenes are likely to occur again .; 
irhether there will ever be another Rebellion; and if so. 
what may be the chance of its success ? Will the people of 
India wish to rise ? How are they affected towards the 
English government ? Are they loyal ? We can only 
answer these questions by asking another : Who are meant 
by the people of India ? The population is divided into 
different classes, as into different castes. The great mass of 
the people are passive. Accustomed to being handed over 
from one native ruler to another, they care not who holds 
the power. He is the best ruler who oppresses them the 
least. But among the high caste Brahmins, and especially 
those who have been educated (among whom alone there is 
anything like political life in India), there is a deep-seated 
disaffection towards the English rule. This is a natural re- 
sult of an education which enlarges their ideas and raises 
their ambition. Some of the Bengalees, for example, are 
highly educated men, and it is but natural that, as they in- 
crease in knowledge, they should think that they are quite 
competent to govern themselves. Hence their dislike to the 
foreign power that is imposed upon them. Not that they 
have any personal wrongs to avenge. It may be that they 
Are attached to English men, while they do not like the Eng- 
lish rule. Every man whose mind is elevated by knowledge 
and reflection wishes to be his own master ; and if ruled a< 



GtTARDlKG AGAINST A SECOND MUTINY. 237 

all, he likes to be ruled by tliose of his own blood and race 
and language. Tliis class of men, whether Hindoos or ISio- 
hammedans, however courteous they may be to the English 
in their personal or business relations, are not thereby con- 
verted to loyalty, any more than they are converted to 
Christianity. 

But however strong their dislike, it is not very probable 
that it should take shape in organized rebellion, and still less 
likely that any such movement should succeed. The Eng- 
lish are now guarded against it as never before. In the 
Mutiny they were taken at every possible disadvantage. The 
country was almost stripped of English troops. Only 20,000 
men were left, and these scattered far apart, and surrounded 
by three times their number of Sepoys in open rebellion. 
Thus even the military organization was in the hands of the 
enemy. If with all these things against them, English skill 
and courage and discipline triumphed at last, can it ever be 
put to such a test again ? 

When the Mutiny was over, and the English had time to 
reflect on the danger they had escaped, they set themselves 
to repair their defences, so that they should never more be 
in such peril. The first thing was to reorganize the army, 
to weed out the elements of disaffection and rebellion, and to 
see that the power was henceforth in safe hands. The Eng- 
lish troops were tripled in force, till now, instead of twenty, 
they number sixty thousand men. The native regiments 
were carefully chosen from those only who had proved faith- 
ful, such as the Goorkas, who fought so bravely at Delhi, 
and other hill tribes of the Himalayas ; and the Punjaubees, 
who are splendid horsemen, and make the finest cavalry. 
But not even these, brave and loyal as they had been, were 
mustered into any regiment except cavalry and infantry. 
Not a single native soldier was left in the artillery. In the 
Mutiny, if the Sepoys had not been practised gunners, thej 
would not have been so formidable at the siege of Lueknow 



*^.38 STKONG rOSITION OF ENGLAND. 

and elsewhere. Now they are stripped of this powerful arm^ 
and in any future rising they could do nothing against forti- 
fied places, nor against an army in the field, equipped with 
modern artillery. In reserving this arm of the service to 
themselves, the English have kept the decisive weapon in 
their own hands. 

Then it is hardly too much to say that by the present com- 
plete system of railroads, the English force is quadrupled^ as 
this gives them the means of concentrating rapidly at any 
exposed point. 

To these elements of military strength must be added the 
greater organizing power of Englishmen. The natives make 
good soldiers. They are brave, and freely expose themselves 
in battle. In the Sikh war the Punjaubees fought desper- 
ately. So did the Sepoys in the Mutiny. But the moment 
the plan of attack was disarranged, they were " all at sea." 
Their leaders had no " head " for quick combinations in pres- 
ence of an enemy. As it has been, so it will be. In any 
future contests it will be not only the English sword, Eng- 
lish guns, and English discipline, but more than all, the Eng- 
lish brains, that will get them the victory. 

Such is the position of England in India. She holds a 
citadel girt round with defences on every side, with strong 
walls without, and brave hearts within. I have been round 
about her towers, and marked well her bulwarks, and I see 
not why, so guarded and defended, she may not hold her 
Indian Empire for generations to come. 

But there is a question back of all this. Might does not 
make right. A government may be established in powei 
that is iiot established in justice. It may be that the Eng- 
lish are to remain masters of India, yet without any right to 
that splendid dominion. As we read the thrilling stories of 
the Mutiny, it is almost with a guilty feeling (as if it betray- 
ed a want of sympathy with all that heroism), that we admit 
any inquiry as to the cuase of that fearful tragedy. But hon 



BUT MIGHT DOES NOT MAKE RIGHT. 23G 

same all this blood to be shed ? Has not England sometliing 
to answer for ? If she has suffered terribly, did she not pay 
the penalty of her own grasping ambition? Nations, like 
mdividnals, often bring curses on themselves, the retribution 
of their oppressions and their crimes. The fact that men 
fight bravely, is no proof that they fight in a just cause. 
Nay, the very admiration that we feel for their courage in 
danger and in death, but increases our horror at the *' politi- 
cal necessity " which requires them to be sacrificed. If Eng- 
land by her own wicked policy provoked the Mutiny, is sh« 
not guilty of the blood of her children ? Thomas Jefferson, 
though a slaveholder himself, used to say that in a war of 
races every attribute of Almighty God would take part with 
the slave against his master ; and Englishmen may well ask 
whether in the conflict which has come once, and may come 
again, they can be quite sure that Infinite Justice will always 
be on their side. 

In these sentences I have put the questions which occur to 
an American travelling in India. Wherever he goes, he sees 
the English flag flying on every fortress — the sign that India 
is a conquered country. The people who inhabit the country 
are not those who govern it. With his Republican ideas of 
the right of every nation to govern itself, he cannot help ask- 
ing : What business have the English in India ? What right 
have a handful of Englishmen, so far from their native island, 
in another hemisphere, to claim dominion over two hundred 
millions of men ? 

As an American, I have not the bias of national feeling 
to lead me to defend and justify the English rule in India ; 
though I confess that when, far off here in Asia, among these 
dusky natives, I see a white face, and hear my own mother 
tongue, I feel that *' blood is thicker than water," and am 
ready to take part with my kindred against all comers. Even 
Americans cannot but feel a pride in seeing men of their own 
race masters of such a kingdom in the East. But this pridf 



240 HAS ENGLAND ANY EIGHT IN INDIA? 

of empire will not extinguish in any fair mind the sense ot 
justice and humanity. 

** Have the English any right in India ? " If it be "a que» 
fcion of titles," we may find it difficult to prove our own right 
in America, from which we have crowded out the original 
inhabitants. None of us can claim a title from the father of 
the human race. All new settlers in a country are " invad- 
ers." But public interest and the common law of the world 
demand that power, once established, should be recognized. 

According to the American principle, that **all just gov- 
ernment derives its authority from the consent of the gov- 
erned," there never was a just government in India, for the 
consent of the governed was never obtained. The people of 
India were never asked to give their " consent " to the gov- 
ernment established over them. They were ruled by native 
princes, who were as absolute, and in general as cruel tyrants, 
as ever crushed a wretched population. 

No doubt in planting themselves in India, the English have 
often used the rights of conquerors. No one has denounced 
their usurpations and oppressions more than their own histo- 
rians, such as Mill and Macaulay. The latter, in his eloquent 
reviews of the lives of Olive and Warren Hastings, has 
spoken with just severity of the crimes of those extraordinary 
but unscrupulous men. For such acts no justification can be 
pleaded whatever. But as between Olive and Surajah Dow 
lah, the rule of the former was infinitely better. It would be 
carrying the doctrine of self-government to an absurd extent^ 
to imagine that the monster who shut up English prisoners in 
the Black Hole had any right which was to be held sacred. 
The question of right, therefore, is not between the English 
and the people of India, but between the English and the 
native princes. Indeed England comes in to protect the peo- 
ple against the princes, when it gives them one strong mastei 
in place of a hundred petty tyrants. The King of Gude col 
lecting his taxes by soldiers, is but an instance of that opprea 



HOW SHE HAS rSED HER POWER. 241 

Bion and cruelty wliicli extended all over India, but which if 
now brought to an end. 

And how has England used her power ? At first, we must 
confess, with but little of the feeling of responsibility which 
should accompany the possession of power. Nearly a hundred 
years ago, Burke (who was master of all facts relating to tlie 
history of India, and to its political condition, more than any 
other man of his time) bitterly arraigned the English govern- 
ment for its cruel neglect of that great dependency. He de- 
nounced his countrymen, the agents of the East India Com- 
pany, as a horde of plunderers, worse than the soldiers of 
Tamerlane, and held up their greedy and rapacious adminis- 
tration to the scorn of mankind, showing that they had left 
no beneficent monuments of their power to compare with 
those of the splendid reigns of the old Moguls. In a speech 
in Parliament in 1783, he said : 

""England ha,s erected no churches, no palaces, no hospitals, no 
schools ; England has built no bridges, made no high roads, cut no 
navigations, dug out no reservoirs. Every other conqueror of every 
other description has left some monument either of State or benefi- 
cence behind him. Were we to be driven out of India this day^ 
nothing would remain to tell that it had been possessed, during the 
inglorious period of our dominion, by anything better than the 
orang-outang or the tiger." 

This is a fearful accusation. What answer can be made 
to it ? Has there been any change for the better since the 
gieat impeacher ot Warren Hastings went to his grave? 
How has England governed India since that day? She 
has not undertaken to govern it like a Model Republic 
If she had, her rule would soon have come to an end. 
She has not given the Hindoos universal sufi'rage, or repie- 
Bentation in Parliament. But she has given them something 
better — Peace and Order and Law, a trinity of blessings that 
they never had before. When the native princes ruled in 
India, they were constantly at war among themselves, and 
11 



242 HAS ESTABLISHED PEACE AND OEDER. 

thus Overrunning and harassing the country. Now the Eng 
lish government rules everywhere, and Peace reigns frotn 
Cape Comorin to the Himalayas. 

Strange to say, this quietness does n^t suit some of the 
natives, who have a restless longing for the wild lawlessness 
of former times. A missionary was one day explaining to a 
crowd the doctrine of original sin, when he was roughly in- 
terrupted by one who said, " I know what is original sin : it 
is the English rule in India." '^ You ought not to say that," 
was the reply, " for if it were not for the English the people 
of the next village would make a raid on your village, and 
oarry off five thousand sheep." But the other was not to be 
put down so, and answered promptly, ^^ J should like ihat^ for 
tihen we would make a raid on them and carry off ten thou- 
sand ! " This was a blunt way of putting it, but it expresses 
the feeling of many who would prefer that kind of wild jus- 
tice which prevails among the Tartar hordes of Central Asia 
to a state of profound tranquility. They would rather have 
Asiatic barbarism than European civilization. 

With peace between States, England has established order 
in every community. It has given protection to life and 
property — a sense of security which is the first condition of 
the existence of human society. It has abolished heathen 
Customs which were inhuman and cruel. It has extirpated 
ihuggism, and put an end to infanticide arid the burning of 
widows. This was a work of immense difficulty, because 
these customs, horrid as they were, were supported by reli- 
gious fanaticism. Mothers cast their children into the Ganges 
as an offering to the gods ; and widows counted it a happy 
escape from the sufferings of life to mount the funeral pile. 
Even to this day there are some who think it hard that they 
cannot thus sacrifice themselves. 

So wedded are the people to their customs, that they are 
very jealous of the interference of the government, when i\ 
prohibits any of their practices on the ground of humanity 



ADMINISTJRATION OF JUSTICE. 24:5 

Dr. Newton, of Lahore, the venerable missionary, told me 
that he knew a few years ago a fakir, a priest of a temple, 
who had grown to be very friendly with him. One day the 
poor man came, with his heart full of trouble, to tell his 
griefs. He had a complaint against the government. He 
said that Sir John Lawrence, then Governor of the Punjaub, 
was very arbitrary. And why ? Because he wanted to bury 
himself alive, and the Governor wouldn't let him ! He had 
got to bs a very old man (almost a hundred), and of course 
must soon leave this world. He had had a tomb prepared in 
the grounds of the temple (he took Dr. Newton to see 
what a nice place it was), and there he wished to lie down 
and breathe his last. With tlie Hindoos it is an act of 
religious merit to bury one's self alive, and on this the old man 
had set his heart. If he could do this, he would go straight 
to Paradise, but the hard English Governor, insensible to 
such considerations, would not permit it. Was it not too 
bad that he could not be allowed to go to heaven in his own 
way? 

Breaking up these old barbarities — suicide, infanticide, 
and the burning of widows — the government has steadily 
aimed to introduce a better system for the administration of 
justice, in which, with due regard to Hindoo customs and 
prejudices, shall be incorporated, as far as possible, the prin- 
ciples of English law. For twenty years the ablest men that 
jould be found in India or in England, have been engaged in 
perfecting an elaborate Indian Code, in which there is one 
law for prince and pariah. What must be the effect on the 
Hindoo mind of such a system, founded in justice, and en- 
forced by a power which they cannot resist ? Such laws 
administered by English magistrates, will educate the Hin- 
doos to the idea of justice, which, outside of English colonies, 
can hardly be said to exist in Asia. 

The English are the Romans of the modern world. Where- 
ever the Roman L?gions marched, they ruled with a strong 



244 THE GREAT EOAD- BUILDERS. 

hand, but they established law and order, the first conditionf 
of human society. So with the English in all their Asiatic 
dependencies. Wherever they come, they put an end tc 
anarchy, and give to all men that sense of protection and se- 
curity, that feeling of personal safety — safety both to life and 
property — without which there is no motive to human effort, 
and no possibility of human progress. 

The English are like the Romans in another feature of their 
administration, in the building of roads. The Romans were 
the great road-builders of antiquity. Highways which be- 
gan at Rome, and thus radiated from a common centre, led 
to the most distant provinces. Not only in Italy, but in 
Spain and Gaul and Germany, did the ancient masters of the 
v/orld leave these enduring monuments of their power. Fol- 
lowing til is example, England, before the days of railroads, 
built a broad macadamized road from Calcutta to Peshawur, 
over 1,500 miles. This may have been for a military pur- 
pose ; but no matter, it serves the ends of peace more than of 
war. It becomes a great avenue of commerce ; it opens com- 
munication between distant parts of India, and brings to- 
gether men of different races, speaking different languages ; 
and thus, by promoting peaceful and friendly intercourse, it 
becomes a highway of civilization. 

Nor is this the only great road in this country. Every 
where I have found the public highways in excellent condi- 
tion. Indeed I have not found a bad road in India — not one 
which gave me such a '*' shaking up " as I have sometimes 
had when riding over the " corduroys " through the Western 
forests of America. Around the large towns the roads are 
especially fine — broad and well paved, and often planted with 
trees. The cities are embellished with parks, like cities in 
England, with botanical and zo3logical gardens. The streets 
a~3 kept clean, and strict sanitary regulations are enforced — ■ 
a matter of the utmost moment in this hot climate, and in a 
dense population, where a sudden outbreak of cholera would 



RAILROADS IN ESTDIA. 245 

sweep off thousands in a few days or hours. The streets are 
weU lighted and well policed, so that one raay go about at 
any hour of day or night with as much safety as in London 
or New York. If these are the effects of foreign rule, even 
the most determined grumbler must confess that it has proved 
a material and substantial benefit to the people of India. 

Less than twenty years ago the internal improvements of 
India received a sudden and enormous development, when to 
the building of roads succeeded that of railroads. Lord Dal- 
housie, when Governor-General, had projected a great railroad 
system, but it was not till after the Mutiny, and perhaps in 
consequence of the lessons learned by that terrible experience, 
that the work was undertaken on a large scale. The govern- 
ment guaranteed five per cent, interest for a term of years, 
and the capital was supplied from England. Labor was 
abundant and cheap, and the works were pushed on with un- 
relaxing energy, till India was belted from Bombay to Cal 
cutta, and trunk lines were running up and down the coun 
try, with branches to every large city. Thus, to English 
foresight and sagacity, to English wealth and engineering 
skill, India owes that vast system of railroads which now 
spreads over the whole peninsula. 

In no part of the world are railroads more used than in 
India. Of course the first-class carriages are occupied chiefly 
by English travellers, or natives of high rank ; and the sec- 
ond-class by those less wealthy. But there are trains for the 
people, run at very low fares. There are huge cars, built 
with two stories, and carrying a hundred passengers each, and 
these two-deckers are often very closely packed. The Hin- 
doos have even learned to make pilgrimages by steam, and 
find it mrch cheaper, as well as easier, than to go afoot. 
Wnen one considers the long journeys they have been accus- 
tomed to undertake under the burning sun of India, the 
amount of suffering relieved by a mode of locomotion so coo? 
ant; swift is beyoni computation. 



246 CANALS IN INDIA. 

"Will anybody tell me that the people of Ir dia if left alone 
would have built their own railways ? Pe^L-haps in the course 
of ageSj but not in our day. The Asiatic nature is torpid 
and slow to move, and cannot rouse itself to great exertion^ 
In the whole Empire of China there is not a railroad, except 
at Shanghai, where a few months ago was opened a little 
" one 'horse concern," a dozen miles long, built by the for- 
eigners for the convenience of that English settlement. This 
may show how rapid would have been the progress of rail- 
roads in India, if left wholly to native " enterprise." It 
would have taken hundreds of years to accomplish what the 
English have wrought in one generation. 

Nor does English engineering skill expend itself on rail- 
roads alone. It has dug canals that are like rivers in their 
length. The Ganges Canal in Upper India is a work equal 
to our Erie Canal. Other canals have been opened, both for 
commerce and for irrigation. The latter is a matter vital to 
India. The food of the Hindoos is rice, and rice cannot be 
cultivated except in fields well watered. A drought in the 
rice fields means a famine in the province. Such a calamity 
is now averted in many places by this artificial irrigation. 
The overflow from these streams, which are truly " fountains 
in the desert," has kept whole districts from being burnt up, 
by which in former years millions perished by famine. 

While thus caring for the material comfort and safety of the 
people of India, England has also shown regard to their en- 
lightenment in providing a magnificent system of JSTational 
Education. Every town in India has its government school, 
while many a large city has its college or its university. In- 
deed, so far has this matter of education been carried, that I 
heard a fear expressed that it was being overdone — at least the 
higher education — because the young men so educated were 
unfitted for anything else than the employ of the government. 
All minor places in India are filled by natives, and veli 
filled too. But there are not enough for all. And heno€ 



IMPROVEMENTS IN THIS GENERATION. 24^3 

inany, finding no profession to enter, and educated above .he 
ordinary occupations of natives, are left stranded on the 
shore. 

These great changes in India, these schools and colleges, 
the better administration of the laws, and these vast inter- 
nal improvements, have been almost wholly the work of the 
generation now living. In the first century of its dominion 
the English rule perhaps deserved the bitter censure of 
Burke, but 

" If 'twere so, it were a grievous fault, 
And grievously hath Caesar answered it." 

England has paid for the misgovernment of India in the blood 
of her children, and within the last few years she has striven 
nobly to repair the errors of former times. Thus one gener- 
ation makes atonement for the wrongs of another. She hfjs 
learned that justice is the highest wisdom, and the truest 
political economy. The change is due in part to the constant 
pressure of the Christian sentiment of England upon its gov- 
ernment, which has compelled justice to India, and wrought 
those vast changes which we see with wonder and admiration. 
Thus stretching out her mighty arm over India, England 
rules the land from sea to sea. I say not that she rules it in 
absolute righteousness — that her government is one of ideal 
perfection, but it is immeasurably better than that of the old 
•native tyrants which it displaced. It at least respects the 
forms of law, and while it establishes peace, it en leavers also 
to maintain justice. The railroads that pierce the vast inte- 
rior quicken the internal commerce of the country, while the 
waters that are caused to flow over the rice-fields of Bengal 
abate the horrors of pestilence and famine. Thus England 
gives to her Asiatic empire the substantial benefits of modern 
civilization ; while in her schools and colleges she brings the 
subtle Hindoo •nind into contact with the science and lean* 
ing of the West. At so many points does this foreign : il« 



248 WISH THAT ENGLISH RULE SHOULD CONTINUE. 

touch the very life of India, and infuse the best blood ol 
Europe into her languid veins. 

With such results of English rule, who would not wish thai 
it might continue ? It is not that we love the Hindoo less, 
but the cause of humanity more. The question of English 
lule in India is a question of civilization against barbarism. 
These are the two forces now in conflict for the mastery of 
Asia. India is the place where the two seas meet. Shall 
she be left to herself, shut up between her seas and her moun- 
tains ? That would be an unspeakable calamity, not only to 
her present inhabitants, but to unborn millions. I believe in 
modern civilization, as I believe in Christianity. These are 
the great forces which are to conquer the world. In con- 
quering Asia, they will redeem it and raise it to a new life. 
The only hope of Asia is from Europe : 

"Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay;" 

and the only hope of India is from England. So whatever 
contests may yet arise for the control of this vast peninsula, 
with its two hundred millions of people, our sympathies must 
always be against Asiatic barbarism, and on the side of Euro 
pean civilization. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

MISSIONS IN INDIA DO MISSIONARIES DO ANY GOOD? 

** Is it not all a farce ? " said a Major in the Bengal Stafl 
Corps, as we came down from Upper India. We were talk- 
ing of Missions. He did not speak of them with hatred, but 
only with contempt. The missionaries *' meant well," but 
they were engaged in an enterprise which was so utterly 
hopeless, that no man in his senses could regard it as other 
than supreme and almost incredible folly. In this he spoke 
the opinion of half the military men of India. They have 
no personal dislike to missionaries — indeed many an officer 
in an out-of-the-way district, who has a missionary family 
for almost his only neighbors, will acknowledge that they 
are ** a great addition to the English society." But as for 
their doing any good, as an officer once said to me : '' They 
might as well go and stand on the shore of the sea and 
preach to the fishes, as to think to convert the Hindoos ! " 
Their success, of which so much is said in England and 
America, is " infinitesimally small." Some even go so far 
as to say that the missionaries do great mischief; that they 
stiv up bad blood in the native population, and perpetuate 
an animosity of races. Far better would it be to leave 
the ** mild Hindoo " to his gods ; to let him worship his 
sacred cows, and monkeys and serpents, and his hideous 
idols, so long as he is a quiet and inofiensive subject of the 
government. 

If one were preaching a sermon to a Christian congrega- 
tion, he might disdain a reply to objections whicli seem tc 
11* 



250 MISSIONS NOW ON TRIAL. 

come out of tlie mouths of unbelie^vers ; it would be en^ugk 
to repeat the words of Him who said, " Go into all the world 
and preach the Gospel to every creature." But I am not 
pleaching, but conversing with an intelligent gentleman, 
who has lived long in India, and might well assume that he 
knows far more about the actual situation than I do. Such 
men are not to be put down. They represent a large part of 
the Anglo-Indian population. We may therefore as well 
recognize the fact that Modern Missions, like any othei 
enterprise which is proposed in the interest of civilization, 
are now on trial before the world. We may look upon them 
as too sacred for criticism ; but in this irreverent age nothing 
is too sacred ; everything that is holy has to be judged by 
reason, and by practical results, and by these to be justified 
or to be condemned. I would not therefore claim anything 
on the ground of authority, but speak of missions as I would 
of national education, or even of the railroad system of India. 
The question here raised I think deserves a larger and 
more candid treatment than it commonly receives either 
from the advocates or the opponents of missions. It is 
not to be settled merely by pious feeling, by unreasoning 
sentiment on the one hand, nor by sneers on the other. To 
convert a whole country from one religion to another, ia 
an undertaking so vast that it is not to be lightly entered 
upon. The very attempt assumes a superior wisdom on the 
part of those who make it, which is itself almost an offence. 
If it be not " a grand impertinence," an intrusion into 
matters with which no stranger has a right to intermeddle, 
it is at least taking a great liberty to thrust upon a man our 
opinion in censure of his own. We may think him vei-y 
ignorant;, and in need of being enlightened. But he may 
have a poor opinion of our ability to enlighten him. We 
think him a fool, and he returns the compliment. At any 
rate, right or wrong, he is entitled to the freedom of his 
opinion as much as we are to ours. If a stranger were to 



CAN ANYTHING JUSTTFT THEM JN INDIA? 26\ 

come t6 us day by day, to argue -witli us, and to fcrce his 
opinions upon us, either in politics or religion^ we rright 
listen civilly and patiently at first, but we should end by 
tarning him out of doors. What right have we to pronounce 
on his opinions and conduct any more than he upon ours ? 

In the domain of religion, especially, a man's opinions are 
sacred. They are between himself and God. There is no 
greater ofience against courtesy, against that mutual conces 
sion of perfect freedom, which is the first law of all human 
intercourse, than to interfere wantonly with the opinions — 
nay, if you please, with the false opinions, with the errors 
and prejudices — of mankind. Nothing but the most iraper^ 
ative call of humanity — a plea of *' necessity or mercy " — 
can justify a crusade against the ancestral faith of a whole 
people. 

I state the case as strongly as I can, that we may look 
upon it as an English officer, or even an intelligent Hindoo, 
looks upon it, and I admit frankly that we have no more 
right to force our religion upon the people of India, than to 
force upon them a republican form of government, unless we 
can give a reason for it, which shall be recognized at the bar 
of the intelligent judgment of mankind. 

Is there then any good reason — any raison d'etre — for the 
establishment of missions in India ? If there be not some 
very solid and substantial ground for their existence, they 
are not to be justified merely because their motive is good. 
Is there then any reasor whatever which can justify any 
man, or body of men, in invading this country wdth a new 
religion, and attacking the ancient faith of the people ? 

All students of history will acknowledge that there are 
certain great revolutions in the opinions of mankind, wVich 
are epochs in history, and turning points in the life of 
nations. India has hal many such revolutions, dating far 
back before the Christian eia. Centuries before Christ was 
born, Buddha preached his new faith on the banks of the 



252 INDIA THE LAND OF MISSIONS. 

Ganges. For a time it conquered the country, driving out 
the old Brahminism, which however came back and con- 
quered in its turn, till Buddhism, retiring slowly from the 
plains of India, planted its pagodas on the shores of Bur- 
mah and among the mountains of Ceylon. 

Thus India is a land of missions, and has been from the 
very beginnings of history. It was traversed by mission- 
aries of its ancient faith ages before Tamerlane descended 
the passes of the Himalayas with the sword in one hand and 
the Koran in the other; or Francis Xavier, the Apostle of 
the Indies, laid his bones in the Cathedral of Goa. If then 
Buddhists and Brahmins, and Moslems and Bomanists, have 
so long disputed the land, there is certainly no reason why 
we should condemn at the very outset the entrance of Pro 
testant Christianity. 

Beside this great fact in the history of India place another : 
that there is no country in the world where religion is such 
a power, such an element in the life of the people. The Hin- 
doos are not only religious, they are intensely so. They have 
not indeed the fierce fanaticism of the Moslems, for their 
creed tolerates all religions, but what they believe they be- 
lieve strongly. They have a subtle philosophy which per- 
vades all their thinking, which digs the very channels in 
which their thoughts run, and cannot overflow ; and this phi- 
losophy, which is imbedded in their religious creed, fijcea 
their castes and customs, as rigidly as it does their forms of 
worship. Beligion is therefore the chief element in the na- 
tional life. It has more to do in moulding the ideas and 
habits, the manners and customs, of the people, than laws or 
government, or any other human institution. Thus India 
furnishes the most imposing illustration on earth of the 
power of Beligion to shape the destiny of a country or a 
race. 

Whether there be anything to justify a friendly invasion 
of India, and the attempt to convert its people to a better re 



WHAT IS HINDOOISM? 253 

ligion, may appear if we ask, What is Hindooism ? Is it a 
good or bad faith ? Does it make men better or worse^ 
happy or unhappy ? Does it promote the welfare of humar 
beings, or is it a system which is false in belief and deadly 
in its effects, and against which we have a right to wage a 
h/Aj war ? 

Hindooism has a thousand shapes, spreading out its arms 
like a mighty banyan tree, but its root is one- — Pantheism. 
When an old fakir at the Mela at Allahabad said to me, 
'' You are God and I am God ! " he did not utter a wild 
rhapsody, but expressed the essence of Hindoo philosophy, 
according to which all beings that exist are but One Being ; 
all thoughts are but the pulse-beats of One Infinite Mind ; 
all acts are but the manifestation of One Universal Life. 

Some may think this theory a mere abstraction, which has 
no practical bearing. But carried out to its logical conse- 
quences, it overthrows all morality. If all acts of men 
are God's acts, then they are all equally good or bad ; or 
rather, they are neither good nor bad. Thus moral distinc- 
tions are destroyed, and vice and virtue are together banished 
from the world. Hence Hindooism as a religion has noth- 
ing whatever to do with morality or virtue, but is only a 
means of propitiating angry deities. It is a religion of ter- 
ror and fear. It is also unspeakably vile. It is the worship 
of obscene gods by obscene rites. Its very gods and god- 
desses commit adultery and incest. Thus vice is deified. 
Such a mythology pollutes the imaginations of the people, 
whereby their very mind and conscience are defiled. Not only 
the heart, but even the intellect is depraved by the loathsome 
objects set up in their temples. The most common object 
of worship in India is an obscene image. Indeed, so well 
understood is this, that when a law was passed by the Gov 
ernment against the exhibition of obscene images, an express 
exception was made in favor of those exposed in templei^ 
and which were objects of religious worship. Thus Hie ioo 



254 POWER OF CA6TE 

ism has the privilege of indecency, and is allowed fco hreaV 
over S.11 restraints. It is the licensed harlot, that is per- 
mitted, in deference to its religious pretensions, to disregard 
the common decencies of mankind. The effect of this on 
public morals can be imagined. The stream cannot rise 
higher than its source. How can a people be pure, when 
their very religion is a fountain of pollution ? But this is a 
subject on which we cannot enlarge. It is an abyss into 
which no one would wish to look. It is sufficient to indi- 
cate what we cannot for very loathing undertake to describe. 
There is another element in the Hindoo religion, which 
cannot be ignored, and which gives it a tremendous powei 
for good or evil. It is Caste. Every Hindoo child is born 
in a certain caste, out of which he cannot escape. When I 
landed at Bombay I observed that every native had upon hia 
forehead a mark freshly made, as if with a stroke of the fin- 
ger, which indicated the god he worshipped or the caste to 
which he belonged. Of these there are four principal ones 
— the Priest, or Brahmin caste, which issued out of the 
mouth of Brahm ; the Warrior caste, which sprung from his 
arms and breast ; the Merchant caste, from his thighs ; and 
the Shoodras, or Servile caste, which crawled out from be- 
tween his feet ; beside the Pariahs, who are below all caste. 
These divisions are absolute and unchangeable. To say that 
they are maintained by the force of ancient custom is not 
enough : they are fixed as by a law of nature. The strata of 
society are as immovable as the strata of the rock-ribbed 
hills. No man can stir out of his place. If he is up he stays 
up by no virtue of his own ; and if he is down, he stays 
down, beyond any power of man to deliver him. No gift of 
genius, or height of virtue, can ever raise up one of a low 
caste into a higher, for cas'^jC is a matter of birth. Upon 
these sub-strata this fixity of caste rests with crushing weight. 
It holds them down as with the force of gravitation, as if th« 
Himalayas were rolled upon them to press them to ^he earth 



ITS COLDNESS AND CKUELTY. 255 

Against this oppression there is no power of resistance, no 
Lifting up from beneath to throw it off. One would suppose 
that the people themselves would revolt at this servitude, 
that every manly instinct would rise up in rebellion against 
such a degradation. But so ingrained is it in the very life 
of the people, that they cannot cast it out anymore than they 
can cast out a poison in their blood. Indeed they seem to 
glory in it. The lower castes crouch and bow down that 
others may pass over them. A Brahmin, who had become a 
Christian, told me that the people had often asked him to wash 
his feet in the water of the street, that they might drink it ! 

Caste is a cold and cruel thing, which hardens the heart 
against natural compassion. I know it is said that high caste 
is only an aristocracy of birth, and that, as such, it fosters 
a certain nobility of feeling, and also a mutual friendliness 
between those who belong to the same order. A caste is 
only a larger family, and in it there is the same feeling, a mix- 
ture of pride and affection, which binds the family together. 
Perhaps it may nurture to some extent a kind of clannish- 
ness, but it does this at the sacrifice of the broader and 
nobler sentiment of humanity. It hardens the heart into 
coldness and cruelty against all without one sacred pale. 
The Brahmin feels nothing for the sufferings of the Pariah, 
who is of another order of being as truly as if he were one 
of the lower animals. Thus the feeling of caste extinguishes 
the sentiment of human brotherhood. 

Taking all these elements together, Hindooism must rank 
as the most despotic, the most cruel, and the vilest of all 
that is called religion amonsj men. There is no other that 
so completely upturns moral distinctions, and makes evil 
good and good evil. Other religions, even though false, 
have some sejitiment that ennobles them, but Hindooism, the 
product of a land fertile in strange births, is the lowest and 
basest, the most truly earth-born, of all the religions that 
c\i"se mankind. 



256 THE BURDEN OF PILGRIMAGES. 

And wliAt burdens does it lay upon a poor, patient, and 
suffering people, in prayers, penances, and pilgrimages I 
The faith of Hindooism is not a mild and harmless form of 
human credulity. It exacts a terrible service, that must be 
paid with sweat and blood. Millions of Hindoos go every 
year on pilgrimages. The traveller sees them thronging the 
roads, dragging their weary feet ovei the hot plains, many 
literally crawling over the burning earth, to appease the 
wrath of angry gods ! A religion which exacts such service 
is not a mere creature of the imagination — it is a tremendous 
reality, which makes its presence felt at every moment. It 
is therefore not a matter of practical indifference. It is not 
a mere exhibition of human folly, which, however absurd, 
does no harm to anybody. It is a despotism which grinds 
the people to powder. 

Seeing this, how they suffer under a power from which 
they cannot escape, can there be a greater object of philan- 
thropy in all the world than to emancipate them from the 
bondage of such ignorance and superstition ? Scientific 
men, the apostles of " modern thought," consider it not only 
a legitimate object, but the high " mission " of science, by 
unfolding the laws of nature, to disabuse our minds of idle 
and superstitious fears ; to break up that vague terror of un- 
seen forces, which is the chief element of superstition. If 
they may fight this battle in England, may we not fight the 
oattle of truth with error and ignorance in Hindostan ? 
Englishmen think it a noble thing for brave and adventurous 
spirits to form expeditions to penetrate the interior of Africa 
to break up the slave trade. But here is a slavery the most 
terrible which ever crushed the life out of human beings. 
Brahmiuism, which is fastened upon the people of India, em- 
braces them like an anaconda, clasping and crushing them in 
its mighty folds. It is a devouring monster, which takes 
out of the very body of every Hindoo, poor and naked 
and wretched as he may be, its pound of quivering fle«b 



VIRTUES OF THE HINDOOS. 257 

Car. these things be, and we look on unmoved ? Can we see 
a whole people bound, like Laocoon and his sons, in the giasp 
of the serpent, writhing and struggling in vain, and not come 
to their rescue ? 

Such is Hindooism, and such is the condition to which it 
has reduced the people of India. Do we need any other ar- 
gument for Christian missions ? Does not this simple state 
ment furnish a perfect defence, and even an imperative de- 
mand for their establishment ? Christianity is the only hope 
of India. In saying this I do not intend any disrespect to the 
people of this country, to whom I feel a strong attraction. 
We are not apt to hear from our missionary friends much 
about the virtues of the heathen ; but virtues they have, which 
it were wrong to ignore. The Hindoos, like other Asiatics, are 
a very domestic people, and have strong domestic attachments. 
They love their homes, humble though they be, and their chil- 
dren. And while they have not the active energy of Western 
races, yet in the passive virtues — meekness, patience under 
injury, submission to wrong — they furnish an example to 
Christian nations. That submissiveness, which travellers 
notice, and which moves some to scorn, moves me rather to 
pity, and I find in this patient, long-suffering race much to 
honor and to love. Nor are the^^ unintelligent. They have 
very subtle minds. Thus they have many of the qualities of 
a great people. But their religion is their destruction. It 
makes them no better, it makes them worse. It does not lift 
them up, it drags them down. It is the one terrible and 
overwhelming curse, that must be removed before there is 
any hope for the people of India. 

Is there not here a legitimate ground for an attempt on the 
part of the civilized and Christian world to introduce a better 
faith into that mighty country which holds two hundred mil- 
lions of tue human race ? This is not intrusion, it is simple 
humanity. In seeking to introduce Christianity into India, 
we invade no ri^ht of any native of that country, Mohamm& 



258 LEGITIMATE GKOimD FOR MISSION'S. 

dan or Hindoo ; we would not wantonly wound their feelings, 
nor even sliock their prejudices, in attacking their hereditary 
faith. But we claim that here is a case where we cannot 
keep silent. If we are told that we " interfere with the peo- 
ple," we answer, that we interfere as the Good Samaritan 
interfered with the man who fell among thieves, and was left 
by the roadside to die ; as the physician in the hospital inter- 
feres with those dying of the cholera; as one who sees a 
brother at his side struck by a deadly serpent applies his 
mouth to the wound, to suck the poison from his blood ! If 
that be interference, it is interference where it would be 
cruelty to stand aloof, for he would be less than man who 
could be unmoved in presence of misery so vast, which it was 
in any degree in his power to relieve. 

Thus India itself is the sufficient argument for missions 
in India. Let any one visit this country, and study its 
religion, and see how it enters into the very life of the 
people ; how all social intercourse is regulated by caste ; how 
one feels at every instant the pressure of an ancient and un- 
changeable religion, and ask how its iron rule is ever to be 
broken ? Who shall deliver them from the body of this 
death ? There is in Hindooism no power of self-cure. For 
ages it has remained the same, and will remain for ages still. 
Help, if it come at all, must come from without, and where 
else can it come from, but from lands beyond the sea ? 

Therefore it is that the Christian people of England and 
America come to the people of India, not in a tone of self- 
righfceousness, assuming that we are better than they, but in 
the name of humanity, of the brotherhood of the human race. 
We believe that " God hath made of one blood all nations of 
men to dwell on the face of the earth," and these Hindoos, 
though living on the other side of the globe, are our brothers. 
They are born into the same world; they belong to the same 
human family, and have the same immortal destiny. To such 
a people, capable of great things, but crushed and oppressed, 



CNDERTAKEN IN THE NAME OF HUMANITY. 269 

we come to do them good. We would break tlie terrible 
bondage of caste, and bring forth woman out of the prison- 
liouse where she passes her lonely existence. This involves 
a social as well as a religious revolution. But what a sigh ol 
relief would it bring to milliDns who, under their present 
conditions, are all their lifetime subject to bondage. 

There is a saying in the East that in India the flowers 
yield no perfume, the birds never sing, and the women never 
smile. Of course this is an exaggeration, and yet it has a 
basis of truth. It is true that the flowers of the tropics, 
though often of brilliant hues, do not yield the rich perfume 
Df the roses of our Northern clime ; and many of the birds 
whose golden plumage flashes sunlight in the deep gloom of 
tropical forests, have only a piercing shriek, instead of the 
soft, delicious notes of the robin and the dove; and the women 
have a downcast look. Well may it be so. They lead a 
secluded and solitary life. Shut up in their zenanas, away 
from society, they have no part in many of the joys of human 
existence, though they have more than their share of life's 
burdens and its woes. No wonder that their faces should be 
sad and sorrowful. Thus the whole creation seems to groan 
and travail in pain. 

Now we desire to dispel the darkness and tne gloom of 
ages, and to bring smiles and music and flowers once more 
into this stricken world. Teaching a religion of love and 
good will to men, we would cure the hatred of races, and 
bring all together in a common brotherhood. We would so lift 
up the poor of this world, that sorrow and sighing shall flee 
away, and that every lowly Indian hut shall be filled with the 
light of a new existence. In that day will not nature share 
in the joy of man's deliverance? Then will the birds begin 
to sing, as if they were let loose from the gates of heaven to 
go flying through the earth, and to fill our common air with 
the voice of melody. Then shall smiles be seen once more 
on hum ^n faces ; not the loud cackling of empty laughter 



260 DO MISSIONARIES DO ANT GOOD? 

but smiles breaking through tears (the reflection of a peac€ 
that passeth understanding), shall spread like sunshine ovei 
the sad faces of the daughters of Asia. 

But some " old Indian " who has listened politely, yet 
Bmiling and incredulous, to this defence of missions, may 
answer, " All this is very fine ; no doubt it would be a good 
thing if the people of India would change their religion j 
■would cast off Hindooism, and adopt Christianity. But is 
it not practically impossible ? Do all the efforts of mission- 
aries really amount to anything." This is a fair question, 
and I will try to give it a fair answer. 

" Do missionaries do any good ? " Perhaps we can best 
answer the question by drawing the picture of an Indian 
village, such as one may see at thousands of points scattered 
over the country. It is a cluster of huts, constructed some- 
times with a light frame-work of bamboo, filled in with 
matting, but more commonly of mud, with a roof of thatch to 
prevent its being washed away in the rainy season. These 
huts are separated from each other by narrow lanes that can 
hardly be dignified with the name of streets. Yet in such a 
hamlet of hovels, hardly fit for human habitation, may be a 
large population. Every doorway is swarming with children. 
On the outskirts of the village is the missionary bungalow^ 
%, large one-story house, also built of mud, but neatly white- 
washed and protected from the rains by a heavy thatched 
roof, which projects over the walls, and shades the broad 
veranda. In the *' compound " are two other buildings of 
the same rude material and simple architecture, a church and 
a schoolhouse. In the latter are gathered every day ten, 
twenty, fifty — perhaps a hundred — children, with bare feet 
and poor garments, though clean, but with bright eyes, and 
who seejm eager to learn. All day long comes from that lo"W 
building a buzz and hum as from a hive of bees. Every 
Sunday is gathered in the little chapel a congregation chieflj 
of poor people, plainly but neatly dressed, and who, as thej 



THE MISSION BUNGALOW IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 263 

ait there, reclaimed from heathenism, seem to be "clothed 
and in their right minds." To the poor the Gospel ia 
preached, and never does it show its sweetness and power, 
as when it comes down into such abodes of poverty, and 
gives to these humble natives a new hope and a new life 
— a life of joy and peace. Perhaps in the same compound 
is an orphanage, in which are gathered the little castaways 
who have been deserted by their parents, left by the road- 
side to die — or whose parents may have died by cholera — and 
who are thus rescued from death, and given the chance which 
belongs to every human creature of life and of happiness. 

Perhaps the missionary is a little of a physician, and has a 
small chest of medicines, and the poor people come to him 
for cures of their bodily ailments, as well as for their spir- 
itual troubles. After awhile he gains their confidence, and 
becomes, not by any appointment, but simply by the right 
of goodness and the force of character, a sort of unofficial 
magistrate, or head man of the village, a general peacemaker 
and benefactor. Can any one estimate the influence of such 
a man, with his gentle wife at his side, who is also active 
Doth in teaching and in every form of charity? Who does 
not see that such a missionary bungalow, with its school, 
its orphanage, and its church, and its daily influences of 
teaching and of example, is a centre of civilization, when 
planted in the heart of an Indian village ? 

How extensive is this influence will of course depend on 
the many or the few devoted to this work, and the wisdom 
and energy with which they pursue it. The number of mis- 
sionaries in India is very small compared with the vast popu- 
lation. And yet the picture here drawn of one village is 
reproduced in hundreds of villages. Take the representatives 
of all the churches and societies of Protestant Christendom, 
they would make a very respectable for^e. But even this 
does not represent the full amount of influence they exeit. 
Moral influences cannot be weighed and measured like 



262 EXTENT OF THIS INFLUENCE. 

material forces. Nor are missionaries to be counted, lik« 
the soldiers of an army. They are not drawn up on parade, 
and do not march through the streets, with gleaming bayonets, 
Their forces are scattered, and their work is silent and un 
Been. 

But in all quiet ways, by churches, schools, and orphan 
ages, their influence is felt ; while by the printing-press thej 
scatter religious truth all over India, the effect of which, ii: 
tens of thousands of those whom it does not '^ convert," is to 
destroy the power of their old idolatry. 

That more Hindoos do not openly embrace Christianity is 
not surprising, when one considers the social influences which 
restrain them. When a Hindoo becomes a Christian, he ia 
literally an outcast. His most intimate friends will not know 
him. His own family turn him from their door, feeling that 
he has brought upon them a disgrace far greater than if he 
had committed a crime for which he was to perish on the 
scaffold. To them he is dead^ and they perform his funeral 
rites as if he were no more in this world. The pastor of the 
native church in Bombay has thus been buried or hurned by 
his own family. Another told me that his own father turned 
from him in the street, and refused to recognize him. These 
things are very hard to bear. And so far from wondering 
that there are not more conversions among the natives of In- 
dia, I wonder that there are so many. 

But what sort of Christians are they ? Are they like 
English or American Christians ? When I landed in India, 
and saw what a strange people I was among, how unlike 
our own race, I asked a question which many have asked 
before: Whether these people could become Christians? It 
is a favorite idea of many travellers — and cf manj English 
residents in India — that not only is the m mber of conver- 
sions small, but that the " converts " are not worth having 
when they are made. It is said that it is only low caste na- 
tives, who b'i.ve nothing to lose, that will desert their old ro 



THE NATIVE CHEISTIANS. 26S 

ligion ; and that they are influenced only by the lowest mo- 
tives, and that while they profess to be converted, they are 
in no wise changed from what they were, except that to their 
old heathen vices they have added that of hypocrisy. Hear- 
ing these things, I have taken some pains to ascertain what 
sorb of people these native converts are. I have attended 
their religious services, and have met them socially, and, sc 
far as I could judge, I have never seen more simple-minded 
Christians. Some of them are as intelligent as the best in- 
structed members of our New England churches. As to their 
low caste, statistics show, among them, a greater proportion 
of Brahmins than of any other caste, as might be expected 
from their greater intelligence. 

The work, then, has not been in vain. The advance is 
alow, but it is something that there is an advance. I am 
told, as the result of a careful estimate, that if the progress 
continues in the future as it has for the last fifteen years, in 
two centuries the whole of India with its two hundred mil- 
lions of people, will be converted to the Christian religion. 
This is a spread of Christianity more rapid than that in the 
age of the apostles, for it was three centuries before the faith 
which they preached became master of the Roman empire. 

With such a record of what Christian Missions have done 
in India, with such evidences of their good influence and 
growing power, they are entitled to honor and respect as one of 
the great elements in the problem of the future of that coun- 
try. To speak of them flippantly, argues but small acquain- 
tance with the historical forces which have hitherto governed 
India or indeed Britain itself. It ill becomes Englishmen to 
sneer at missions, for to missionaries they owe it that their 
island has been reclaimed from barbarism. When Augustine 
landed in Britain their ancestors were clothed in skins, and 
roaming in forests. It was the new religion that softened 
their manners, refined their lives, and in the lapse of genera 
tions wrought out the slow process of civilization. 



264 MISSIONS IN BEITAIN. 

In Johnson's '* Tour to tlie Hebrides," he refers to tite 
early missionaries who civilized Britain in a passage which if 
one of the most eloquent in English literature; " We were 
now treading that illustrious island which was once the lu- 
minary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and 
roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the 
blessings of religion. . . . Far from me and from my friends, 
bo such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and 
unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wis- 
dom, bravery or virtue. That man is little to be envied 
whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of 
Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among 
the ruins of lona." 

That power which has made England so great ; which has 
made the English race the foremost race in all this world ; is 
now carried to another hemisphere to work the same grad- 
ual elevation in the East. It is a mighty undertaking. 
The lifting up of a race is like the lifting up of a continent. 
Such changes cannot come suddenly ; but in the slow lapse 
of ages the continent may be found to have risen, and to be 
covered, as it were, with a new floral vegetation ; as that 
faith, which is the life of Europe, has entered into the Tftst 
populations of Asia. 



CHAPTER XX. 

BENARES, THE HOLY CITY. 

We had begun to feel ourselves at home 11 India, A 
Kranger takes root quickly, as foreign plants take root in the 
soil, and spring up under the sun and rain of the tropics. A 
traveller makes acquaintances that ripen into friendship and 
bind him so fast that it is a real pain when he has to break 
away and leave these new friends behind. Thus Allahabad 
had become our Indian home. The missionary community 
was so delightful, and everybody was so kind and hospitable, 
that we had come to feel as if we were only in an outlying 
corner of America. The missionary bungalow was like a 
parsonage in New England ; and when we left all, and the 
train rolled across the long bridge over the Jumna, fron 
which we saw Miss Seward and Miss Wilson standing oi. 
their veranda, and waving us farewell, it seemed as if we 
were leaving home. 

But the holy city was before us. Some seventy miles from 
Allahabad stands a city which, to the devout Hindoo, is the 
most sacred place on earth — one "ivhich overtops all others, as 
the Himalayas overtop all other mountains on the globe. 
Inhere are holy shrines in different countries, which are held 
sacred by the devotees of different religions , but there are 
four chief holy cities — Rome, Jerusalem, Mecca, and Benares. 
As the devout Catholic makes a pilgrimage to Rome, to re- 
ceive the blessing of the Holy Father ; as the Jew traverses 
land and sea, that his feet may stand within the gates of Je- 
rusalem, where he weeps at the place of wailing under the 
walls of the ancient temple ; as the caravan of the Arab siilJ 
12 



266 BENAEES. 

crosses the desert to Mecca ; so does the devout Hindoo come 
to Benares, and count it his supreme joy if he can but see its 
domes and towers ; and eternal felicity to die on the banks of 
the sacred river. 

A couple of hours brought us to the Ganges, from which 
we had a full view of the city on the other side of the river. 
If the first sight did not awaken in us the same emotions as 
in the mind of the Hindoo, the scene was picturesque enough 
to excite our admiration. The appearance of Benares is very 
striking. For two miles it presents a succession of palaces 
and temples which are built not only on, but almost m, the 
river, as Venice is built in the sea ; the huge structures 
crowding each other on the bank, and flights of steps going 
down into the water, as if they would receive the baptism of 
the sacred river as it flowed gently by ; as if the people lis- 
tened fondly to its murmurs, and when wakened in their 
dreams, were soothed to hear its waters lapping the very stones 
of their palaces. 

We crossed the river on a bridge of boats, and drove out 
to the English quarter, which is two or three miles distant, 
and here rested an hour or two before we took a courier and 
plunged into the labyrinth of the city, in which a stranger 
would soon be lost who should attempt to explore it without 
a guide. Benares would be well worth a visit if it were only 
for its Oriental character. It is peculiarly an Indian city, 
with every feature of Asiatic and of Indian life strongly mark- 
ed. Its bazaars are as curious and as rich as any in Asia, 
with shawls of cashmere, and silks wrought by fine needle- 
work into every article of costly array. It has also cunning 
workmen in precious metals and precious stones — ^in gold and 
silver and diamonds. One special industry is workmanship 
in brass. We brought away a number of large trays, curious* 
ly wrought like shields. One contains a lesson in Hindoo 
mythology for those who are able ^*o read it, as on it art 
fcra 3ed all the incarnations of Vishnu. 



MARRIAGE CUSTOMS OF THE HINDOOS. 267 

While tlms rambling about tbe city, we had au opportun- 
ity to see something of the marriage customs of the Hindoos, 
as we met in the streets a number of wedding processions. 
The heavenly influences were favorable to such unions. The 
Hindoos are great astrologers, and give high importance to 
the conjunction of the stars, and do not marry except when 
Jupiter is in the ascendant. Just now he rides high in the 
heavens, and this is the favored time of love. The proces- 
sions were very curious. The bridegroom was mounted on 
horseback, tricked out in the dress of a harlequin, with a 
crowd on horses and on foot, going before and following after, 
waving flags, beating drums, and making all manner of noises, 
to testify their joy; while the bride, who was commonly a 
mere child, was borne in a palanquin, covered with ribbons 
and trinkets and jewelry, looking, as she sat upright in her 
doll's house, much more as if she were a piece of frosted cake 
being carried to the wedding, than a living piece of flesh and 
blood that had any part therein. Altogether the scene was 
more lik© a Punch-and-Judy show, than any part of the seri- 
ous business of life. Engagements are often made when the 
parties are in childhood, or even in infancy ; and the marriage 
consummated at twelve. These child-marriages are a great 
curse to the country, as they fill the land with their puny off"- 
spring, that wither like weeds in the hot sun of India. It is a 
pity that they could not be prohibited ; that marriages could 
not be forbidden until the parties had reached at least six- 
teen years of age. 

Another thing which greatly amused us was to see how 
the people made way for us wherever we came. The streets 
are very narrow, and there is not room for a jostling crowd 
But their politeness stopped at no obstacle. They meant to 
give us a free passage. They drew to one side, making them- 
selves very small, and even hugging the wall, to get out of 
our way. We accepted this delicate attention as a mark of 
resj)ect, which we thought a touching proof of Oriental cour 



2Q8 BENARES THE CAPITAL OF HIND00I8M. 

tesy 5 and with the modesty of our countrymen, regarded it 
as an homage to our greatness. We were a little taken aback 
at being informed that, on the contrary, it was to avoid pollu- 
tion ; that if they but touched the hem of our garments, 
they would have had to run to the Ganges to wash away the 
stain ! 

But we need not make merry with these strict observances 
of the people, for with them Religion is the great business of 
life, and it is as the Mecca of their faith that Benares has 
such interest for the intelligent traveller. No city in India, 
perhaps none in all Asia, dates back its origin to a more re- 
mote antiquity. It is the very cradle of history and of reli- 
gion. Here Buddha preached his new faith centuries before 
Christ was born in Judea — a faith which still sways a larger 
part of mankind than any other, though it has lost its domin- 
ion in the place where it began. Here Hiudooism, once 
driven out, still fought and conquered, and here it still has 
its seat, from which it rules its vast and populous empire. 

It is always interesting to study a country or a religion in 
its capital. As we go to Rome to see Romanism, we come 
fco Benares to see Hindooism, expecting to find it in its 
purest form. "Whether that is anything to boast of, we can 
*;ell better after we have seen a little of 6his, its most holy 
city. Benares is full of temples and shrines. Of course we 
could only visit a few of the more sacred. The first that 
we entered was like a menagerie. It was called the Monkey 
Temple ; and rightly so, for the place was full of the little 
creatures. It fairly swarmed with them. They were over- 
head and all around us, chattering as if they were holding a 
council in the heart of a tropical forest. The place was for 
all the world like the monkey-house in the Zoological Gar- 
dens in London, or in our Central Park in New York, and 
would be an amusing resort for children were it not regarded 
as a place for religious worship. Perhaps some innocent 
traveller thinks this a touching proof of the charming sim 



THE MONKEY TEMPLE. 209 

plicity of tlie Hindoos, that they wish to call on all animated 
nature to unite in devotion, and that thus monkeys (speaking 
the language which monkeys understand) are permitted to 
join with devout Hindoos in the worship of their common 
Creator. But a glance shows the stranger that the monkeys 
are here, not to worship, but to be worshipped. According 
to the Pantheism of the Hindoos, all things are a part of 
God. Not only is he the author of life, but he lives in 
his creatures, so that they partake of his divinity ; and 
therefore whatsoever thing liveth and moveth on the earth — ■ 
beast, or bird, or reptile — is a proper object of worship. 

But the monkeys were respectable compared with the 
hideous idol which is enthroned in this place. In the court 
of the Temple is a shrine, a Holy of Holies, where, as the 
gilded doors are swung open, one sees a black divinity, with 
thick, sensual lips, that are red with blood, and eyes that 
glare fiendishly. This is the goddess Doorgha, whose sacred 
presence is guarded by Brahmin priests, so that no profane 
foot may come near her. While they kept us back with holy 
horror from approaching, they had no scruples about reach- 
ing out their hands to receive our money. It is the habit of 
strangers to drop some small coin in the outstretched palms. 
But I was too much disgusted to give to the beggars. They 
were importunate, and said the Prince of Wales, who was 
there a few days before, had given them a hundred rupees. 
Perhaps he felt under a necessity of paying such a mark of 
respect to the religion of the great Empire he was to rule. 
B\it ordinary travellers are under no such obligation. The 
rascals trade in the curiosity of strangers. It might be well 
if they did not find it such a source of revenue. So I would 
not give them a psnny ; though I confess to spending a few 
pice on nuts and " sweets " for the monkeys, who are the 
only ones entitled to " tribute " from visitors ; and then, re- 
turning to the gharri, we rode disgusted away. In anothei 
part of the city is the Golden Temple, devoted to the gof' 



270 BATHING IN THE GANGES 

Shiva, wiiich divides with that of the monkeys the homage ol 
the Hindoos. Here are no chattering apes, though the place 
is profaned with the presence of beasts and birds. Some 
dozen cows were standing or lying down in the court, making 
it seem more like a stable or a barnyard than a holy place. 
Yet here was a fakir rapt in the ecstasies of devotion, with 
one arm uplifted, rigid as a pillar of iron. He was looked 
upon with awe by the faithful who crowded around him, and 
who rewarded his sanctity by giving him money ; but to our 
profane eyes he was a figure of pride (though disguised under 
the pretence of spirituality), as palpable to the sight as the 
peacock who spread his tail and strutted about in the filthy 
enclosure. 

But perhaps the reader will think that we have had enough 
of this, and will gladly turn to a less revolting form of super- 
stition. The great sight of Benares is the bathing in the 
Ganges. This takes place in tlie morning. We rose early 
the next day, and drove down to the river, and getting a 
boat, were rowed slowly for hours up and down the stream. 
It is lined with temples and palaces, which descend to the 
water by flights of steps, or ghauts, which at this hour are 
thronged mth devout Hindoos. By hundreds and thousands 
they come down to the river's brink, men, women, and chil- 
dren, and wade in, not swimming, but standing in the water, 
plunging their heads and mumbling their prayers, and per- 
forming their libations, by taking the water in their hands, 
and casting it towards the points of the compass, as an act of 
worship to the celestial powers, especially to the sun. 

As the boatmen rested on their oars, that we might ob- 
■erve the strange scene, — started with horror to see a corpse 
in the water. It was already half decayed, and obscene birds 
were fluttering over it. But this is too common a sight in 
Benares to raise any emotion in the breast of the Hindoo, 
whose prayer is that he may die on the banks of the Ganges. 
Does his body drift down with the stream, or become fcxx/ 



BtJENING OF BODIES ^71 

for the fowls of the air, his soul floats to its final rest in the 
Deity, as surely as the Ganges rolls onward to the sea. 

But look ! here is another scene. We are approaching thg 
Burning Ghaut, and I see piles of wood, and human bodies 
and smoke and flame. I bade the boatmen draw to the shore, 
that we might have a clearer view of this sbrange sight. 
Walking along the bank, we came close to the funeral piles. 
Several were waiting to be lighted. When all is ready, the 
nearest male relative walks round and round the pile, and 
then applies to it a lighted withe of straw. Here was a body 
just dressed for the last rites. It was wrapped in coarse 
garments, perhaps all that affection could give. Beside it 
stood a woman, watching it with eager eyes, lest any rude 
hand should touch the form which, though dead, was still 
beloved. I looked with pity into her sad, sorrowful face. 
What a tale of affection was there ! — of love for the life that 
was ended, and the form that was cherished, that was soon 
to be but ashes, and to float away upon the bosom of the 
sacred river. 

Another pile was already lighted, and burning fiercely. I 
stood close to it, till driven away by the heat and smoke. 
As the flames closed round the form, portions of the body 
were exposed. Now the hair was consumed in a flash, leav- 
ing the bare skull ; now the feet showed from the other end 
of the pile. It was a ghastly sight. Now a horrid smell filled 
the air, and still the pile glowed like a furnace, crackling 
with the intense heat, and shot out tongues of flame that 
seemed eager to lick up every drop of blood. 

In this disposal of the dead there is nothing to soothe tho 
mourner like a Christian burial, when the body is committed 
to the earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, when a beloved 
form is laid down under the green turf gently, as on a mother's 
breast. 

The spectacle of this morning, with the similar one at A 
laliabad, have set me a- thinking. I ask, What idea do the 



2T2 WHAT THE GANGES IS 10 THE HmDi)03. 

Hindoos attach to bathing in the Ganges ? Is it purificafcioi 
or expiation, or both? Is it the putting away of sin by the 
washing of water ; the cleansing of the body for the sins of 
the soul ? Or is there in it some idea of atonement ? What 
is the fascination of this religious observance ? Perhaps no 
stranger can fully understand it, or enter into the feeling 
with which the devout Hindoo regards the sacred river. The 
problem grows the more we study it. EEowever we approach 
the great river of India, we find a wealth of associations 
gathering around it such as belongs to no other river on the 
face of the earth. No other is so intimately connected with 
fche history and the whole life of a people. Other rivers have 
poetical or patriotic associations. The ancient Romans kept 
watch on the Tiber, as the modern Germans keep watch on 
the Khine. But these are associations of country and of pa- 
triotic pride — not of life, not of existence, not of religion. 
In these respects the only river in the world which approaches 
the Ganges is the Nile, which, coming down from the High- 
lands of Central Africa, floods the long valley, which it has 
itself made in the desert, turning the very sands into fertility, 
and thus becoming the creator and life-giver of Egypt. 

What the Nile is to Egypt, the Ganges is to a part of 
[ndia, giving life and verdure to plains that but for it were 
a desert. As it bursts through the gates of the Himalayas, 
and sweeps along with resistless current, cooling with its icy 
breath the hot plains of India, and giving fertility to the rice 
fields of Bengal, it may well seem to the Hindoo the greatest 
risible emblem of Almighty power and Infinite beneficence. 

But it is more than an emblem. The ancient Egyptians 
worshipped the Nile as a god, and in this they had the same 
feeling which now exists among the Hindoos in regard to the 
Ganges. It is not only a sacred river because of its associa- 
tions ; it is itself Divine, flowing, like the Eiver of Life iy 
the Book of Revelation, out of the throne of God. It de- 
tcends out of heaven, rising in mountains whose tops toucll 



THE GANGES WASHES AWAY SIN. 276 

the clouds — the sacred mountains which form the Hindoo 
Kylas, or Heaven, the abode of the Hindoo Trinity — of 
Brahma and Shiva and Yishnu. Rushing from under a gla- 
cier in the region of everlasting snow, it seems as if it gushed 
from the very heart of the Dweller on that holy mount; as 
if that flowing stream were the life-blood of the Creator. 
When the Hindoo has seized this idea, it takes strong hold 
of his imagination. As he stands on the banks of the Ganges 
at night, and sees its broad current quivering under the rays 
of the full moon, it seems indeed as if it were the clear stream 
flovring through the calm breast of God himself, bearing life 
from Him to give life to the world. Hence in his creed it 
ha? all the virtue and the divine power that belongs in the 
Christian system to the biood of Christ. It makes atone 
ment for sins that are past. " He that but looks on the 
Ganges," says the Hindoo proverb, " or that drinks of it, 
washes away the stains of a hundred births ; but he that 
bathes in it washes away the stains of a thousand births." 
This is a virtue beyond that of the Nile, or the rivers of Da- 
mascus, or of the Jordan, or even of 

Siloa's brook 
That flowed fast by the oracle of God. 

It is a virtue which can be found alone in that blood which 
" cleanse th from all sin." 

The spectacle of such superstition produced a strong revr""- 
sion of feeling, and made me turn away from these waters 
that cannot cleanse the guilty soul, nor save the dying, to 
the Mighty Sufierer, whose blood was shed for the sins of 
the world, and I seemed to heai \Aoices in far-ofi Christian 
lands singing : 

B'er since by faith I saw the stream 

Thy flowing wounds supply, 
Redeeming lov^e has been my theme, 

And shall bo till I die. 
12* 



274 THE MAHARAJAH DF BENAEE8. 

But I do not sit in judgment on the Hindoos, nor include 
a whole people in one general condemnation. Some of them 
are as noble specimens of humanity, with as much " natural 
goodness " as can be found anywhere ; and are even religiou& 
in their way, and in zeal and devotion an example to their 
Christian neighbors. Of this, a very striking instance can 
be given here. 

On the other side of the Ganges lives a grand old Hindoo, 
the Maharajah of Benares, and as he is famed for his hospi- 
♦"^ality to strangers, we sent him a letter by a messenger (be- 
ing assured that that was the proper thing to do), saying that 
we should be hajDpy to pay our respects to my lord in his 
castle ; and in a few hours received a reply that bis carriage 
should be sent to our hotel for us the next morning, and thai 
his boat would convey us across the river. We did not wait 
for the carriage, as we were in haste to depart for Calcutta 
the same forenoon, but rode down in our own gharri to the 
river side, where we found the boat awaiting us. On the 
other bank stood a couple of elephants of extraordinary size, 
that knelt down and took us on their broad backs, and rolled 
off at a swinging pace to a pleasant retreat of the Mahara- 
jah a mile or two from the river, where he had a temple of 
his own, situated in the midst of beautiful gardens. 

On our return we were marched into the courtyard of the 
castle, where the attendants received us, and escorted us 
within. The Maharajah did not make his appearance, as it 
was still early, but his secretary presented himself to do the 
honors, giving his master's respects with his photograph, and 
showing us every possible courtesy. We were shown through 
the rooms of state, where the Prince of Wales had been re 
ceived a few weeks before. The view from the terrace on 
the river side is enchanting. It is directly on the water, and 
commands a view up and down the Ganges for miles, while 
across the smooth expanse rise the temples ar.d palaces of the 
Holy City. What a place for a Brahmin to live or to die ! 



A DEV3UT HINDOO. 27^ 

This Maharajah of Benares is well known all over India 
He is a member of the Viceroy's Council at Calcutta, and 
held in universal respect by the English community. Sir 
William Muir, who is one of the most pronounced Christian 
men in India, whom some would even call a Puritan for his 
strictness, told me that the Maharajah was one of the best ot 
men. And yet he is of the straitest sect of the Hindoos, 
who bathes in the Ganges every morning, and " does his 
pooja." In all religious observances he is most exemplary, 
often spending hours in prayer. The secretary, in excusing 
his master's absence, said that he had been up nearly all 
night engaged in his devotions. How this earnest faith in a 
religion so vile can consist with a life so pure and so good, is 
one of the mysteries of this Asiatic world which I leave to 
those wiser than I am to explain. 

We had lingered so long that it was near the hour of our 
departure for Calcutta, and we were three miles up the river. 
The secretary accompanied us to the boat of the Maharajah, 
which was waiting for us, and bade us farewell, with many 
kind wishes that we might have a prosperous journey. Lying 
against the bank was the gilded barge in which the Mahara- 
jah had received and escorted the Prince of Wales. Waving 
our adieu, we gave the signal, and the boatmen pushed off 
into the stream. It was now a race against time. We had 
a long stretch to make in a very few minutes. I offered the 
men a reward if they should reach the place in time. The 
stalwart rowers bent to their oars, their swarthy limbs mak- 
ing swift strokes, and the boat shot like an arrow down the 
stream. I stood up in the eagerness and excitement of the 
chase, taking a last look at the sacred temples as we shoi 
swiftly by. It wanted but two or three minutes of the houi 
as our little pinnace struck against the goal by the bridge of 
boats, and throwing the rupees to the boatmen, we J:'urried 
up the bank, and had just time to get fairly bestowed in the 
roomy first-class carriage, which we had all to ov4rselves 



276 PHILOSOPHY OF HINDOOISM. 

when the train started for Calcutta, and the towers and 
domes and minarets of the holy city of India faded from oui 
sight. 

Thinking ! Still thinking ! What does it aU mean ? 
Who can understand Hindooism — where it begins and where 
it ends? It is like the fabled tree that had its roots dowi. 
in the Kingdom of Death, and spread its branches over the 
world. Behind it, or beneath it, is a deep philosophy, which 
goes down to the very beginnings of existence, and touches 
the most vital problems of life and death, of endless dying 
and living. Out of millions of ages, after a million births, 
following each other in long succession, at last man is cast 
upon the earth, but only as a bird of passage, darting swiftlj 
through life, and then, in an endless transmigration of souls, 
passing through other stages of being, till he is absorbed in 
the Eternal All. Thus does man find his way at last back 
to God, as the drop of water, caught up by the sun, lifted 
into the cloud, descends in the rain, trickles in streams 
down the mountain side, and finds its way back to the ocean. 
So does the human soul complete the endless cycle of exis- 
tence, coming from God and returning to God, to be swallow- 
ed up and lost in that Boundless Sea. 

Much might be said, by way of argument, in support of 
this pantheistic philosophy. But whatever may be urged in 
favor of Hindooism in the abstract, its practical results are 
terrible. By a logic as close and irresistible as it is fatal, it 
takes away the foundation of all morality, and strikes down 
all goodness and virtue — all that is the glory of man, and all 
that is the beauty of woman. It is nothing to the purpose 
to quote the example of such a man as the Maharajah of 
Benares, for there is a strange alchemy in virtue, by which a 
pure nature, a high intelligence, and right moral instincts, 
will convert even the most pernicious doctrines to the pur- 
pose of a spiritual life. But with the mass of Hindoos it is 
only a system of abject superstition and terror. As we roUeo 



WHEN WILL IT PASS AWAY? 27? 

along the bants of the Ganges, I thought what tales that 
stream could tell. Could we but listen in the dead of night, 
what sounds we might hear ! Hush ! hark ! There is a 
footstep on the shore. The rushes on the bank are parted, 
and a Hindoo mother comes to the water's edge. Look ! she 
holds a child in her arms. She starts back, and with a shriek 
casts it to the river monsters. Such scenes are not frequent 
now, because the government has repressed them by law, 
though infanticide is fearfully common in other ways. But 
even yet in secret — " darkly at dead of night " — does fanati- 
cism sometimes pay its offering to the river which is wor- 
shipped as a god. This is what Hindooism does for the mother 
and for her child. Thus it wrongs at once childhood and 
motherhood and womanhood. Who that thinks of such 
scenes can but pray that a better faith may be given to the 
women of India, that the mother may no longer look with 
anguish into the face of her own child, as one doomed to 
destruction, but like any Christian mother, clasp her baby to 
her breast, thanking God who has given it to her, and bidden 
her keep it, and train it up for life, for virtue and for hap- 
piness. 

But is there any hope of seeing Hindooism destroyed? 
I fear not very soon. When I think how many ages it has 
stood, and what mighty forces it has resisted, the task seems al- 
most hopeless. For centuries it fought with Buddhism for the 
conquest of India, and remained master of the field. Theu 
came Mohammedanism in the days of the Mogul Empire. It 
gained a foothold, and reared its mosques even in the Holy 
City of the Hindoos. To this day the most splendid structure 
in Benares is the great Mosque of AuruDgzebe. As I climbed 
its tall minaret, and looked over the city, I saw here and 
there the gilded domes and slender spires that mark the tem- 
ples of Islam. But these fierce iconoclasts, who set out from 
Arabia to break the idols in pieces, could not destroy them 
here. The fanatical Aurungzebe could build liis mosque, 



278 INFLIJENCE OF EDUCATION. 

with its minaret so loftj as to overtop all the temples of Pa 
ganism ; but he could not convert the idolaters. With sucl: 
tenacity did they cling to their faith, that even the religion 
of the Prophet could make little impression, though armed 
with all the power of the sword. 

And now come modern civilization and Christianity. The 
work of " tearing down " is not left to Missions alone. There 
is in India a vast system of National Education. In Benares 
there is an University whose stately halls would not look out 
of place among the piles of Oxford. In the teaching there is a 
rigid — I had almost said a religious — abstinence from religion. 
But science is taught, and science confutes the Hindoo cos- 
mogony. When it is written in the Puranas that the world 
rests on the back of an elephant, and that the elephant stands 
on the back of a tortoise, and the tortoise on the back of the 
great serpent Naga, it needs but a very little learning to con- 
vince the young Hindoo that his sacred books are a mass of 
fables. But this does not make him a Christian. It lands 
him in infidelity, and leaves him there. And this is the state 
of the educated mind of India, of what is sometimes designat- 
ed as Young India, or Young Bengal. Here they stand — 
deep in the mire of unbelief, as if they had tried to plant their 
feet on the low-lying Delta of the Ganges, and found it sink 
beneath them, with danger of being buried in Gangetic ooze 
and slime. But even this is better than calling to gods that 
cannot help them ; for at least it may give them a sense of 
their weakness and danger. It may be that the educated 
mind of India has to go through this stage of infidelity before 
it can come into the light of a clearer faith. At present they 
believe nothing, yet conform to Hindoo customs for social rea- 
sons, for fear of losing caste. This is all-powerful. It is hard 
for men to break away from it in detail. But once that a 
breach is made in their ranks, the same social tyranny may 
carry them over en masse, so that a nation shall be born in a 
day. At present the work that is going on is that of sapping 



THE OLD FAITH UTmERMINED. 2V9 

and mming; of boring holes into the foundation of Hindoo- 
ism ; and this is done as industriously, and perhaps as effeo- 
tivelj^ by Governoient schools and colleges as by Missions. 
At Benares we observed, in sailing up and down thtr 
Ganges, that the river had undermined a number of temples 
built upon its banks, and that they had fallen with their huge 
columns and massive architecture, and were lying in broken 
and shapeless masses, half covered by the water. What a 
spectacle of ruin and decay in the Holy City of the Hindoos ! 
This is a fit illustration of the process which has been going 
on for the last half century in regard to Hindooism. The 
waters are washing it away, and by and by the whole colossal 
fabric, built up in ages of ignorance and superstition, will 
come crashing to the earth. Hindooism will fall, and gretki 
will be the fall of it. 



CHAPTER XXL 

CALCUTTA — FAREWELL TO INDl/L 

It is a good rule in travelling, as in rhetoric, to keep the 
best to the last, and wind up with a climax. But it would 
be hard to find a climax in India after seeing the old Mogul 
capitals, whose palaces and tombs outshine the Alhambra ; 
after climbing the Himalayas, and making a pilgrimage 
to the holy city. And yet one feels a crescendo of interest in 
approaching the capital. India has three capitals — Delhi, 
where once reigned the Great Mogul, and which is still 
the centre of the Mohammedan faith ; Benares, the Mecca 
of the Hindoos ; and Calcutta, the capital of the modern 
British Empire. The two former we have seen ; it is 
the last which is now before us. 

Our route was southeast, along the valley of the Ganges, 
and through the province of Bengal. What is the magic 
of a name ? From childhood the most vivid association 
I had with this part of India, was that of Bengal tigers, 
which were the wonder of every menagerie ; and it was not 
strange if we almost expected to see them crouching in 
the forest, or gliding away in the long grass of the jun- 
gle. But Bengal has other attractions to one who rides 
over it. This single province of India is five times as 
large as the State of New York. It is a vast alluvial 
plain, through which the Ganges pours by a hundred mouths 
to the sea, its overflow giving to the soil a richness and 
fertility like that of the valley of the Nil 3, so that it 
supports a pojjulation equal to that of the whole of the 



BENGAL — ARBIVAL AT CALCUTTA. 281 

United States. The cultivated fields that we pass show 
the natural wealth of the country, as the frequent towns 
show the density of the population. Of these the largest is 
Patna, the centre of the opium culture. But we did not 
stop anywhere, for the way was long. From Benares to 
Calcutta is over four hundred miles, or about as far as 
from New York city to Niagara Falls. We started at elev- 
en o'clock, and kept steadily travelling all day. Night fell, 
and the moon rose over the plains and the palm groves, and 
still we fled on and on, as if pursued by the storm spirits of 
the Hindoo Kylas, till the morning broke, and found us on 
the banks of a great river filled with shipping, and opposite 
to a great city. This was the Hoogly, one of the mouths of 
the Ganges, and there was Calcutta ! A carriage whirled us 
swiftly across the bridge, and up to the Great Eastern Hotel, 
where we were glad to rest, after travelling three thousand 
miles in India, and to exchange even the most luxurious 
railway carriage for beds and baths, and the comforts of civ- 
ilization. The hotel stands opposite the Government House, 
the residence of the Viceroy of India, and supplies every- 
thing necessary to the dignity of a " burra Sahib. " Soft- 
footed Hindoos glided silently about, watching our every mo- 
tion, and profoundly anxious for the honor of being our ser- 
vants. A stalwart native slept on the mat before my door, 
an<l attended on my going out and my coming in, as if I had 
betMi a grand dignitary of the Empire- 
Calcutta bears a proud name in the East — that of the City 
of Palaces — from which a traveller is apt to experience 
a feeling of disappointment. And yet the English por 
tion of the city is sufficiently grand to make it worthy to 
rank with the second class of European capitals. The Gov- 
ernment House, from its very size, has a massive and stately 
appearance, and the other public buildings are of correspond- 
ing proportions. The principal street, called the Chow 
cinghee road, is lined for two miles with the handsome 



282 BEAUTY OF THE CITT. 

houses of government officials or wealthy English rcsidtmts. 
But the beauty of Calcutta is the grand esplanade, caJed the 
Maidan — an open space as large as our Central Park in 
New York ; beginning at the Government House, and reach- 
ing to Fort Yv^illiam, and beyond it ; stretching for two 
or three miles along the river, and a mile back from it to i/he 
mansions of the Chowringhee Road. This is an immense pa- 
rade-ground for military and other displays. Here and there 
are statues of men who have distinguished themselves in the 
history of British India. Tropical plants and trees give to 
the landscape their rich masses of color and of shade, while 
under them and around them is spread that carpet of green 
so dear to the eyes of an Englishman in any part of the 
world — a wide sweep of soft and smooth English turf. Here 
at sunset one may witness a scene nowhere equalled except in 
the great capitals of Europe. In the middle of the day the 
place is deserted, except by natives, whom, being " children 
of the sun," he does not '' smite by day," though the moon 
may smite them by night. The English residents are shut 
closely within doors, where they seek, by the waving of 
punkas, and by admitting the air only through mats drip- 
ping with water, to mitigate the terrible heat. But as the 
sun declines, and the palms begin to cast their shadows 
across the plain, and a cool breeze comes in from the sea, the 
whole English world pours forth. The carriage of the Vice- 
roy rolls out from under the arches of the Government 
House, and the other officials are abroad. A stranger is sur- 
prised at the number of dashing equipages, with postilions 
and servants in liveries, furnished by this foreign city. 
These are not all English. Native princes and wealtly ba- 
boos vie with Englishmen in the bravery of their equipages, 
and give to the scene a touch of Oriental splendor. Officers 
ifii horseback dash bj^ accompanied often by fair English 
faces ; while the band from Fort William plays the martial 
airs of England It is indeed a brilliant spectacle, which, 



ATTRACTIONS TO EUEOPEANS. 283 

but for the turbans and the swarthy faces under them, would 
make the traveller imagine himself in Hyde Park. 

From this single picture it is easy to see why Calcutta is to 
an Englishman the most attractive place of residence in 
[ndia, or in al] the East. It is more like London. It is a 
great capital — the capital of the Indian Empire ; the seat of 
government ; the residence of the Viceroy, around whom is 
assembled a kind of viceregal court, composed of all the high 
officials, both civil and military. There is an Army and 
Navy Club, where one may meet many old soldiers who have 
seen service in the Indian wars, or who hold high appoint- 
ments in the present force. The assemblage of such a num- 
ber of notable men makes a large and brilliant English so- 
ciety. 

Nor is it confined to army offi.cers or government officials, 
Connected with the different colleges are men who are dis- 
tinguished Oriental scholars. Then there is a Bishop of Cal- 
cutta, who is the Primate of India, with his clergj^ and Eng- 
lish and American missionaries, who make altogether a very 
miscellaneous society.* Here Macaulay lived for three years 

* There are not many Americans in Calcutta, and as they are few, 
we are the more concerned that they should be respectable, and not 
dishonor our national character. Sometimes I am told we have had 
representatives of whom we had no reason to be proud. We are now 
most fortunate in our Consul, General Litchfield, a gentleman of ex- 
cellent character, who is very obliging- to his countrymen, and com- 
mands in a high degree the respect of the English community. 
There is here also an American pastor. Dr. Thorburn, who is very 
popular, and whose people are building him a new church while he 
is absent on a visit to his own country ; and what attracts a stranger 
still more, an excellent family of American ladies, engaged in the 
Zenana Mission, which is designed to reach Hindoo women, who, as 
they live in strict seclusion, can never hear of Christianity except 
through those of their own sex. This hospitable ' ' Home ' ' waa 
made ours for a part of the time that we were in Calcutta, for which, 
and for all the kindness of these excellent ladies, we hold it in g^ rat© 
ful remembrance, 



284 DRAWBACKS TO LIFE IN INDIA. 

as a member of the Governor's Council, and was the centit 
of a society which, if it lacked other attractions, must hav*i 
found a constant stimulus in his marvellous conversation. 

And 7et with all these attractions of Calcutta, English re- 
sidents still pine for England. One can hardly converse 
with an English officer, without finding that it is his dream 
to get through with his term of service as soon as he may, 
and return to spend the rest of his days in his dear native 
Island. Even Macaulay — with all the resources that he had 
ir. himself, with all that he found Anglo-Indian society, and 
all that he made it — regarded life in India as only a splen- 
did exile. 

The climate is a terrible drawback. Think of a country, 
where in the hot season the mercury rises to 117—120° in the 
shade ; while if the thermometer be exposed to the sun, it 
quickly mounts to 150, 160, or even 170°! — a heat to which 
no European can be exposed for half an hour without danger 
of sunstroke. Such is the heat that it drives the government 
out of Calcutta for hilf the year. Eor six months the Vice- 
roy and his staiT emigrate, bag and baggage, going up the 
country twelve hundred miles to Simla, on the first range of 
the Himalayas, which is about as if the President of the 
United States and his Cabinet should leave Washington on 
the first of May, and transfer the seat of government to some 
high point in the Rocky Mountains. 

But the climate is not the only, nor the chief, drawback 
to life in India. It is the absence from home, from one's 
country and people, which makes it seem indeed like exile. 
Make the best of it, Calcutta is not London. What a man 
like Macaulay misses, is not the English climate, with its 
rains and fogs, but the intellectual life, which centres in the 
British capital. It was this which made him write to hia 
sister that " A lodgings up three pairs of stairs in London 
was better than a palace in a compound at Chowringhee." 
I confess I cannot understand how any man, who has a re 



GREAT FIELD FOR USEFULNESS. 285 

spectable position in his own country, should choose Calcuttaj 
or any other part of India, as a place of residence, except for 
a time ; as a merchant goes abroad for a few years, in tlie 
hope of such gain as shall enable him to return and live in 
independence in England or America ; or as a soldier goes 
to a post of duty (" Not his to ask the reason why ") ; or aa 
a missionary, with the purely benevolent desire of doing 
good, for which he accepts this voluntary exile. 

But if a man has grown, by any mental or moral process, to 
the idea that life is not given him merely for enjoyment ; 
that its chief end is not to make himself comfortable — to sit 
at home in England, and hear the storm roar around the 
British Islands, and thank God that he is safe, though all the 
rest of the world should perish ; if he but once recognize 
the fact that he has duties, not only to himself, but to man- 
kind ; then for such a man there is not on the round globe a 
broader or nobler field of labor than India. For an English 
statesman, however great his talents or boundless his ambi- 
tion, one cannot conceive of a higher place on the earth than 
that of the Viceroy of India. He is a ruler over more than 
two hundred millions of human beings, to whose welfare he may 
contribute by a wise and just administration. What immeas- 
urable good may be wrought by a Governor- General like Lord 
William Bentinck, of whom it was said that " he was William 
Penn on the throne of the Great Mogul." A share in this bene- 
ficent rule belongs to every Englishman who holds a place in 
the government of India. He is in a position of power, and 
therefore of responsibility. To such men is entrusted the pro- 
tection, the safety, the comfort, and the happiness of multi« 
tudes of their fellow-men, to whom they are bound, if not by 
national ties, yet by the ties of a comuion humanity. 

And for those who have no official position, wLo have 
neither place nor power, but who have intelligence and a de- 
sire to do good on a wide scale, India ofiers a field as broad 
as their ambition, where, either as moral or intellectual m 



2S6 ENGLISH COLLEGES AND SCHOOLa. 

structors, as professors of science or teachers of religion, tLej 
may contiibute to the welfare of a great people. India is a 
country where, more than in almost any other in the world, 
European civilization comes in contact with Asiatic barbar- 
ism. Its geographical j30sition illustrates its moral and in- 
tellectual position. It is a peninsula stretched out from the 
lower part of Asia into the Indian Ocean, and great seas dash 
against it on one side and on the other. So, intellectually 
and morally, is it placed " where two seas meet," where mod- 
ern science attacks Hindooism on one side, and Christianity 
attacks it on the other. 

In this conflict English intelligence has already done much 
for the intellectual emancipation of the people from childish 
ignorance and folly. In Calcutta there are a number of 
English schools and colleges, which are thronged with young 
Bengalees, the flower of the city and the province, who are 
instructed in the principles of modern science and philosophy. 
The efiect on the mind of Young Bengal has been very great. 
An English education has accomplished all that was expected 
from it, except the overthrow of idolatry, and here it has con- 
spicuously failed. 

When Macaulay was in India, he devoted much of his 
time to perfecting the system of National Education, from 
which he expected the greatest results ; which he believed 
would not only till the ignorant and vacant minds of the 
Hindoos with the knowledge of modern science, but would 
uproot the old idolatry. In the recently published volumes of 
his letters is one to his father, dated Calcutta, Oct. 12, 1836, 
in which he says ; 

*' Our Eng-lirfh schools are flourishing wonderfully. We find it 
difficult — in some places impossible— to provide instruction for aU 
who want it. At the single town of Hoogly 1400 boys are learning 
English. The efEect of this education on the Hindoos is prodigious. 
No Hindoo who has received an English education ever remains sin 
cerely attached to his religion. Some continue to profess it as • 



DO NOT DE8TE0T IDOLATRY. 281 

matter of policy ; but many profess themselves pure Deists, and 
some embrace Christianity. It is m^y firm belief that, if our plans ol 
education are foLowed up, there will not be a single idolater among 
the reputable classes in Bengal thirty years hence. And this will be 
effected without any efforts to proselytize ; without the smallest in- 
terference with religious liberty ; merely by the natural operation oi 
knowledge and reflection." 

These sanguine expectations have been utterly disappointed, 
Since that letter was written, forty years have passed, and 
every year has turned out great numbers of educated young 
men, instructed in all the principles of modern science; and yet 
the hold of Hindooism seems as strong as ever. I find it 
here in the capital, as well as in the provinces, and I do 
not find that it is any better by coming in contact with mod- 
ern civilization. Nothing at Benares was more repulsive 
and disgusting than what one sees here. The deity most 
worshipped in Calcutta is the goddess Kali, who indeed gives 
name to the city, which is Anglicized from Kali-ghat. She 
delights in blood, and is propitiated only by constant sacri- 
fices. As one takes his morning drive along the streets lead- 
ing to her shrine, he sees tliem filled with young goats, who 
are driven to the sacred enclosure, which is like a butcher's 
shambles, so constantly are the heads dropping on the pave- 
ment, which is kept wet with blood. She is the patron of 
thieves and robbers, the one to whom the Thugs always made 
ofibrings, in setting out on their expeditions for murder. No 
doubt the young men educated in the English colleges despise 
this horrid worship. Yet in their indifference to all religion, 
they think it better to keep up an outward show of cor form- 
ity, to retain the respect, or at least the good will, of their 
Hindoo countrymen, among whom it is the very first condi- 
tion of any social recognition whafcev3r, that they shall not 
break away from the religion of their ancestors. 

How then are they to be reached? The Chiistiao 
schools educate the very young ; and the orphanages tak« 



288 THE BEAHMO SOMAJ — KESIIOOB CHUNDER SEN. 

neglected children and train them from the begiun. ng. Bu\ 
for young men who are already educated in the goTernmeni 
colleges, is there any way of reaching them f None, except 
that of open, direct, manly argument. Several years since 
President Seelye of Amherst College visited India, and 
here addressed the educated Hindoos, both in Calcutta and 
Bombay, on the claims of the Christian religion. He was 
received with perfect courtesy. Large audiences assembled 
to hear him, and listened with the utmost respect. What 
impression he produced, I cannot say ; but it seems to me 
that this is " the way to do it," or at least one way, and a 
way which gives good hope of success. 

In fighting this battle against idolatry, I think we should 
welcome aid from any quarter, whether it be evangelical or 
not. While in Calcutta, I paid a visit to Keshoob Chuuder 
Sen, whose name is well known in England from a visit which 
he made some years ago, as the leader of the Brahmo Somaj, 
I found him surrounded by his pupils, to whom he was giv- 
ing instruction. He at once interrupted his teaching for the 
pleasure of a conversation, to which all listened apparently 
with great interest. He is in his creed an Unitarian, so far 
as he adopts the Christian faith. He recognizes the unity of 
God, and gives supreme importance to prayer. The inter- 
view impressed me both with his ability and his sincerity^ 
I cannot agree with some of my missionary friends who look 
upon him with suspicion, because he does not go far enough. 
On the contrary, I think it a matter of congratulation that 
he has come as far as he has, and I should be glad if he could 
get Young Bengal to follow him. But I do not think fehe 
Brahmo Somaj has made great progress. It has scattered 
adherents in different par-ts of India, but the whole number 
of followers is small compared with the masses that cling to 
their idols. He frankly confessed that the struggle was very 
unequal, that the power of the old idolatry was tremendous^ 
and especially that the despotism of caste was terriiic. Tf 



DR. OAKEY AT SEKAMPOKE. 289 

break away from it, required a degree of moral courage that 
was very rare. The great obstacle to its overthrow was a 
social one, and grew out of the extreme anxiety of Hindoo 
parents for the marriage of their children. If they once 
broke away from caste, it was all over with them. They 
were literally outcasts. Nobody would speak to them, and 
they and their children were delivered over to one common 
curse. This social ostracism impending over them, is a ter- 
ror which even educated Hindoos dare not face. And so 
they conform outwardly, while they despise inwardly. 
Hence, Keshoob Chunder Sen deserves all honor for the 
stand he has taken, and ought to receive the cordial support 
of the English and Christian community. 

What I have seen in Calcutta and elsewhere satisfies me 
that in all wise plans for the regeneration of India, Christian 
missions must be a necessary part. One cannot remember 
but with a feeling of shame, how slow was England to re- 
ceive missionaries into her Indian Empire. The first attempt 
of the English Church to send a few men to India was 
met with an outcry of disapprobation. Sydney Smith hoped 
the Government would send the missionaries home. When 
Carey first landed on these shores, he could not stay in Brit- 
ish territory, but had to take refuge at Serampore, a Danish 
settlement a few miles from Calcutta, where he wrought a 
work which makes that a place of pilgrimage to every Chris- 
tian traveller in India. We spent a day there, going over 
the field of his labor. He is dead, but his work survives. 
There he opened schools and founded a college, the first of 
its kind in India (unless it were the government college of 
Fort William in Calcutta, in which he was also a pro- 
fessor), and which led the way for the establishment of thai 
magnificent system of National Education which is now the 
glory of India. 

What Carey was in his day, Dr. Duff in Calcutta and Di. 
Wilson in Bombay were a generation later, rigorous advo 
13 



290 STUDENTS A.T THE COLLEGES. 

cates of education as an indispensable means to quicken th« 
torpid mind of India. They were the trusted advisers and 
counsellors of the government in organizing the present 
system of National Education. This is but one of many 
benefits for which this country has to thank missionaries. 
And if ever India is to be so renovated as to enter into the 
family of civilized and Christian nations, it will be largely by 
their labors. One thing is certain, that mere education will 
not convert the Hindoo. The experiment has been tried and 
failed. Some other and more powerful means must be taken 
to quicken the conscience of a nation deadened by ages of 
false religion — a religion utterly fatal to spiritual life. That 
such a change may come speedily, is devoutly to be wished 
No intelligent traveller can visit India, and spend here two 
months, without feeling the deepest interest in the country 
and its people. Our interest grew with every week of our 
stay, and was strongest as we were about to leave. 

The last night that we were in Calcutta, it was my privi- 
lege to address the students at one of the Scotch colleges. 
The hall was crowded, and I have seldom, if ever, spoken to 
t finer body of young men. These young Bengalees had 
iaany of them heads of an almost classical beauty ; and with 
\heir grace of person heightened by their flowing white 
robes, they presented a beautiful array of young scholars, 
such as might delight the eyes of any instructor who should 
have to teach them " Divine philosophy." My heart " went 
out" to them very warmly, and as that was my last impres- 
sion of India, I left it with a very different feeling from that 
with which I entered it — with a degree of respect for its 
people, and of interest in them, which I humbly conceive if 
the very first condition of doing them any good. 

It was Sunday evening : the ship on which we were to 
embark for Burmah was to saiJ at daybreak, and it was nec- 
essary to go on board at once. So hardly had we returned 
from our evening service, before we drove down to the river 



FAREWELL TO INDIA. 291 

The steamer lay off in the stream, the tide was out, and even 
the native boats could not come up to where we could step 
on board. But the inevitable coolies were there, their long 
caked legs sinking in the mud, who took us on their brawny 
backs, and ?arried us to the boats, and in this dignified man- 
ner we took our departure from India. 

The next morning, as we went on deck, the steamer was 
dropping down the river. The guns of Fort William were 
firing a salute; at Garden Reach we passed the palace of thf 
King of Oude, where this deposed Indian sovereign stil 
keeps his royal state among his serpents and his tigers. We 
were all day long steaming down the Hoogly. The country 
is very flat ; there is nothing to break the monotony of its 
swamps and jungles, its villages of mud standing amid rice 
fields and palm groves. As we approach the sea the river 
divides into many channels, like the lagoons of "Venice. All 
around are low lying islands, which now and then are swept 
by terrible cyclones that come up from the Bay of Bengal. 
At present their shores are overgrown with jungles, the 
home of wild beasts, of serpents, and crocodiles, of all slimy 
and deadly things, the monsters of the land and sea. Through 
a net-work of such lagoons, we glide out into the deep ; 
slowly the receding shores sink till they are submerged, as if 
they were drowned; we have left India behind, and aU 
iu*ound i£ only a watc rj horizon 



CHAPTER XXII. 



BUKMAH, OR FARTHER INDIA. 



In America we speak of the Far West, which is an unda- 
fined region, constantly receding in the distance. So in Asia 
there is a Far and Farther East, ever coming a little nearer 
to the rising sun. When we have done with India, there ia 
still a Farther India to be ** seen and conquered." On the 
other side of the Bay of Bengal is a country, which, though 
called India, and under the East Indian Government, is not 
India. The very face of nature is different. It is a country 
not of vast plains, but of m.ountains and valleys, and spi'inga 
that run among the hills ; a country with another people 
than India, another language, and another religion. Looking 
upon the map of Asia, one sees at its southeastern extremity 
a long peninsula, reaching almost to the equator, with a cen- 
tral range of mountains, an Alpine chain, which runs through 
its whole length, as the Apennines run through Italy. This 
is the Malayan peninsula, on one side of which is Burmah, 
and on the other, Siam, the land of the White Elephant. 

Such was the " undiscovered country " before us, as we 
went on deck of the good ship Malda, four days out from 
Calcutta, and found her entering the mouth of a river which 
once bore the proud name of the Kiver of Gold, and was said 
to flow through a land of gold. These fabled riches have 
disappeared, but the majestic river still flows on, broad- 
bosomed like the Nile, and which of itself might make the 
riches of a country, as the Nile makes the riches of Egypt 



THE IRRAWADDY RANGOON. 29S 

Tliis is the miglity Irrawaddy, one of the great rivers of 
Eastern Asia ; which takes its rise in the western part of 
Thibet, not far from the head waters of the Indus, and runs 
along the northern slopes of the Himalayas, till it turn? 
south, and winding its way through the passes of the loft} 
mountains, debouches into Lower Burmah, where it divides 
into two large branches like the Nile, making a Delta of ten 
thousand square miles — larger than the Delta of Egypt — 
whose inexhaustible fertility, yielding enormous rice harvests, 
has more than once relieved a famine in Bengal. 

On the Irrawaddy, twenty-five miles from the sea, stands 
Kangoon, the capital of British Burmah, a city of nearly a 
hundred thousand inhabitants. As we approach it, the most 
conspicuous object is the Great Pagoda, the largest in 
the world, which is a signal that we are not only in a 
new country, but one that has a new religion— not Brahmin, 
but Buddhist — whose towering pagodas, with their gilded 
roofs, take the place of Hindoo temples and Mohammedan 
mosques. Rangoon boasts a great antiquity ; it is said 
to have been founded in the sixth century before Christ, but 
its new masters, the English, with their spirit of improve- 
ment, have given it quite a modern appearance. Large 
steamers in the river and warehouses along its bank, show 
that the spirit of modern enterprise has invaded even this 
distant part of Asia. 

Burmah is a country with a history, dating back far into 
the past. It was once the seat of a great empire, with 
a population many fold larger than now. In the interior are 
to be found ruins like those in the interior of Cambodia, 
which mark the sites of ancient cities, and attest the great- 
ness of an empire that has long since passed away. This is a 
subject for the antiquarian ; but I am more interested ir »ta 
present condition and its future prospects than its past his- 
tory. Burmah is now a part of the great English Empire in 
the East, and it has been the scene of events whi^'h make a 



294 RANGChDN — GOVERNMENT HOUSE. 

very thrilling chapter in the history of American Missions 
Remembering this, as soon as we got on shore we took a 
gharri, and rode off to find the AnLeriian missionaries, 
of whom and of their work I shall have more to say. We 
brought a letter also to the Chief Commissioner, Mr. RivevH 
Thompson, who invited us to be his guests while in Rangoon 
This gentleman is a representative of the best class of Eng 
lish officials in the East, of those conscientious and labori- 
ous men, trained in the civil service in India, whose intelli- 
gence and experience make the English rule such a blessing 
to that country. The presence of a man of such character 
and such intelligence in a position of such power — for he is 
virtually the ruler of Burmah — is the greatest benefit to the 
country. We shall long remember him and his excellent 
wife— a true Englishwoman — for their courtesy and hospital 
ity, which made our visit to Rangoon so pleasant. The Gov- 
ernment House is out of the city, surrounded partly by the 
natural forest, which was alive with monkeys, that were 
perched in the trees, and leaping from branch to branch. 
One species of them had a very wild and plaintive cry, 
almost like that of a human creature in distress. It is said 
to be the only animal whose notes range through the whole 
scale. It begins low, and rises rapidl}'', till it reaches a pitch 
at which it sounds like a far-off wail of sorrow. Every 
morning we were awakened by the singing of birds, the first 
sound in the forest, with which there came through the open 
windows a cool, delicious air, laden with a dewy freshness as 
of Spring, the exquisite sensation of a morning in the tropics, 
Then came the tramp of soldiers along the walk, changing 
guard. In the midst of these strange surroundings stood the 
beautiful English home, with all its culture and refinement, 
and the morning and evening praj^ers, that were a sweetei 
incense to the Author of so much beaafcy than '' the spicy 
breezes that blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle." The evening drivi 
to the public gardens, where a band of music was playing 



BEAUTY OF BURMAH. 295 

gave one a sight of the English residents jf Rangoon, ajjd 
made even an American feel, in hearing his familiar iongue, 
that he was not alogether a stranger in a strange land. The 
Commissioner gave me his Report on British Burmah, made 
to the Government of India. It fills a large octavo volume, 
and in reading it, one is surprised to learn the extent of the 
)ountry, which is twice as large as the State of New York, 
and its great natural wealth in its soil and its forests — the 
resources for supporting a dense population. 

T found the best book on Burmah was by an American 
missionarj. Dr. Mason, who, while devoted to his religious 
work, had the tastes of a naturalist, and wrote of the country 
with the enthusiasm of a poet and a man of science.* He 
describes the interior as of marvellous beauty, with rugged 
mountains, separated by soft green valleys, in which some- 
times little lakes, like the Scottish lochs, sleep under the 
shadow of the hills ; and rivers whose banks are like the banks 
of the Rhine. He says : " British Burmah embraces all 
variety of aspect, from the flats of Holland, at the mouths of 
the Irrawaddy, to the more than Scottish beauty of the moun- 
tainous valley of the Sal wen, and the Rhenish river banks of 
the Irrawaddy near Prome." With the zest of an Alpine 

* This book furnishes a good illustration of the incidental servdce 
which missionaries — aside from the religious work they do — render 
to the cause of geography, of science, and of literature. They are 
the most indefatigable explorers, and the most faithful and authentic 
narrators of what they see. Its full title is : " BmiMAH : its People 
and Natural Productions ; or Notes on the Natives, Fauna, Flora, 
and Minerals, of Tenasserim, Pegu, and Burmah; With systematio 
catalogues of the known Mammals, Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, Insects, 
Mollusks, Crustaceans, Anellides, Radiates, Plants, and Mine"als, with 
vernacular names." In his preface the writer says : 

"No pretensions are made in this work to completencteS. It is noil 
a book composed in the luxury of literary leisure, but a collection of 
Notes [ Wnat is here so modestly caU od Notes, is an octavo of ovei 
900 pagesj ^thich I have been making during the twenty yean of mj 



396 PRODUCTS OF THE COUNTRY. 

tourist, he climbs the wild passes of the hills, and follows thf 
streams coursing down their sides, to where they leap in 
waterfalls over precipices fifty or one hundred feet high. 
A.mid this picturesque scenery he finds a fauna and flora, 
more varied and rich than those of any part of Europe. 

The country produces a great variety of tropical fruits ; it 
yields spices and gums ; while the natives make use for many 
purposes of the bamboo and the palm. The wild beasts are 
hunted for their skins, and the elephants furnish ivory. But 
the staples of commerce are two — rice and the teak wood. 
Rice is the universal food of Barmah, as it is of India and 
of China. And for timber, the teak is invaluable, as it is the 
only wood that can resist the attacks of the white ants. It is 
a red wood, like our cedar, and when wrought with any de- 
gree of taste and skill, produces a pretty effect. The bettei 
class of houses are built of this, and being raised on upright 
posts, with an open story beneath, and a broad veranda above, 
they look more like Swiss chalets than like the common East 
ern bungalows. The dwellings of the poorer people are mere 
huts, like Irish shanties or Indian wigwams. They are con- 
structed only with a frame of bamboo, with mats hung be- 
tween. You could put up one as easily as you would pitch 
a tent. Drive fonr bamboo poles in the ground, put cross 

residence in this country, in the corners of my time that would other- 
wise have been wasted. Often to forget my weariness when travel- 
ling, when it has been necessary to bivouac in the jungles ; while the 
Karens have been seeking fuel for their night-fires, or angling for 
their suppers in the stream ; I have occupied myself with analyzing 
the flowers that were blooming around my couch ; or examining the 
fish that were caught ; or an occasional reptile, insect, or bird, that 
attracted my attention. With such occupations I have brightened 
many a solitary hour ; and often has the most unpromising situation 
proved fruitful in interest ; for ' the barren heath, with its mosses, 
lichens, and insects, its stunted shrubs and pale flowers, becomes a 
paradise under the eye of observation ; and to the genuine thinkeJ 
the sandy beach and the arid wild are full of wonders.' " 



GAYETT OF THE BURMESE. 297 

pieces and hang mats of bark, and you have a Burmese house. 
To be sure it is a slender habitation — " reeds shaken with the 
wind ; " but it serves to cover the poor occupants, and if an 
earthquake shakes it down, little harm is done. It costs 
nothing for house-rent ; rice is cheap, and the natives are ex 
pert boatmen, and get a part of their living from the rivers 
and the sea. Their wants are few and easily supplied. 
"There is perhaps no country in the world," says Mason, 
** where there are so few beggars, so little suffering, and so 
much actual independence in the lower strata of society." 
Thus provided for by nature, they live an easy life. Ex- 
istence is not a constant struggle. The earth brings forth 
plentifully for their humble wants. They do not borrow 
trouble, and are not weighed down with anxiety. Hence the 
Burmese are \'ery light-hearted and gay. In this they pre- 
sent a marked contrast to some of the Asiatics. They have 
more of the Mongolian cast of countenance than of the Hin- 
doo, and yet they are not so grave as the Hindoos on the one 
hand, or as the Chinese on the other. The women have 
much more freedom than in India. They do not veil 
their faces, nor are they shut up in their houses. They 
go about as freely as men, dressed in brilliant colored 
silks, wound simply and gracefully around them, and car- 
rying the large Chinese umbrellas. They enjoy also the 
glorious liberty of men in smoking tobacco. We meet them 
with long cheroots, done up in plantain leaves, in their 
mouths, grinning from ear to ear. The people are fond of 
pleasure and amusement, of games and festivals, and laugh 
and make merry to-day, and think not of to-morrow. This 
natural and irrepressible gayety of spirit has given them the 
name of the Irish of the East. Like the Irish too, they are 
wretchedly improvident. Since they can live so easily, they 
are content to live pocrly. It should be said, however, that 
up to a recent period they had no motive for saving. The 
least sign of wealth was a temptation to robbery on the par 
13* 



298 THE NATIVE KINGDOM OF BUEMAH. 

of officials. Now that they ha^e security under the Englisli 
goveminent, they can save, and some of the natives have 
giown ricli. 

This is one of the benefits of English rule, which make me 
iejoi<;e whenever I see the English flag in any part of Asia. 
Wherever that flag flies, there is protection to property and 
life ; there is law and order — the first condition of civilizea 
society. Such a government has been a great blessing to 
Burmah, as to India. It is not necessary to raise the ques- 
tion how England came into possession here. It is the old 
story, that when a civilized and a barbarous power come in 
contact, they are apt to come into conflict. They cannot be 
quiet and peaceable neighbors. Mutual irritations end in 
var, and war ends in annexation. In this way, after two 
wars, England acquired her possessions in the Malayan 
Peninsula, and Lower Burmah became a part of the great 
Indian Empire. We cannot find fault with England for 
doing exactly what we should do in the same circumstances, 
what we have done repeatedly with the American Indians. 
Such collisions are almost inevitable. So far from regretting 
that England thus " absorbed " Burmah, I onlv resrret tLat 
instead of taking half, she did not take the whole. For 
British Burmah is not the whole of Burmah ; there is still a 
native kingdom on the Upper Irrawaddy, between British 
Burmah and China, with a capital, Mandelay, and a sovereign 
of riiost extraordinary character, who preserves in full force 
the notions of royalty peculiar to Asiatic countries. Recently 
a British envoy, Sir Douglas Forsyth, was sent to have some 
negotiations with him, but there was a difficulty about hav- 
ing an audience of his Majesty, owing to the peculiar 
etiquette of that court, according to which he was required 
to take ofi" his boots, and get down on his knees, and ap- 
proach the royal presence on all fours ! I forget how the 
great question was compromised, but there is no doubt thai 
the King of Burmah considers himself the greatest poter tat€ 



THE KING ANT) HIS CAPITAL. 299 

m earth. His capital is a wretched place. A Russian 
gentleman whom we met in Rangoon, had just come down 
from Mandelay, and he described it as the most miserable 
mass of habitations that ever assumed to be called a city, 
The -e were no roads, no carriages, no horses, only \ few buL 
lock carts. Yet the lord of this capital thinks it a great 
metropolis, and himself a great sovereign, and no one about 
him dares tell him to the contrary. He is an absolute des- 
pot, and has the power of life and death, which he exercises 
on any who excite his displeasure. He has but to speak a 
word or raise a hand, and the object of his wi*ath is led to 
execution. Suspicion makes him cruel, and death is some- 
times inflicted by torture or crucifixion. Formerly bodies 
were often seen suspended to crosses along the river. Of 
course no one dares to provoke such a master by telling him 
the truth. Not long ago he sent a mission to Europe, and 
when his ambassadors returned, they reported to the King 
that " London and Paris were very respectable cities, but not 
to be compared to Mandelay ! " This was repeated to me by 
the captain of the steamer whi^h brought them back, who 
said one of them told him they did not dare to say anything 
else ; that they would lose their heads if they should intimate 
to his majesty that there was on the earth a greater sove- 
reign than himself. 

But in spite of his absolute authority, this old King lives 
in constant terror, and keeps himself shut up in his palace, 
or within the walls of his garden, not daring to stir abroad 
for fear of assassination. 

It requires a few hard knocks to get a little sense into 
such a thick head ; and if in the course of human events the 
English were called to administer these, we should br sweetly 
submissive to the ordering of Providence. 

But though so ignorant of the world, this old king ia 
accounted a learned man among his people, and is quite reli 
gious after his fashion. Indeed he is repor'ed to have said 



300 A LAEGE ROYAL FAMILT. 

to an English gentleman that "the English were a g ^. 
people, but what a pity that they had no religion ! " In iais 
own faith he is very " orthodox." He will no ' t.ave an^ 
" Dissenters " ahoiit him — not he. If any man has do*ibtSj 
let him keep them to himself, lest the waters of the Irra 
waddy roll over his unbelieving breast. 

But in the course of nature this holy man will be gathered 
to his rest, and then his happy family may perhaps not live 
in such perfect harmony. He is now sixty-five years old, 
and has thirty sons, so that the question of succession is 
somewhat difficult, as there is no order of primogeniture 
He has the right to choose an heir ; and has been urged to 
do so by his English neighbors, to obviate all dispute to the 
succession. But he did this once and it raised a storm about 
his ears. The twenty-nine sons that were nob chosen, with 
their respective mothers, raised such a din about his head 
that the poor man was nearly distracted, and was glad to 
revoke his decision, to keep peace in the family. He keeps 
his sons under strict surveillance lest they should assassinate 
him. But if he thus gets peace in his time, he leaves things 
in a state of glorious uncertainty after his death. Then 
there may be a household divided against itself. Perhaps 
they will fall out like the Kilkenny cats. If there should 
be a disputed succession, and a long and bloody civil war, it 
might be a duty for their strong neighbors, " in the interest 
of humanity," to step in and settle the dispute by taking the 
country for themselves. Who could regret an issue that 
should put an end to the horrible oppressior and tyranny of 
the native government, with its cruel punishments, its tor 
tures and crucifixions ? 

It would give the English the mastery of a magnificeni 
country. The valley of the Irra waddy is rich as the valle; 
of the Nile, and only needs " law and order " for the wilder 
ness to bud and blossom as the rose. Should the English 
take Upper Burmah, the great East Indian Empire would b* 



mPKOVEMENT OF THE COUNTKY. 301 

extended over the whole South of Asia, and up to .ho bor- 
ders of China. 

But the excellent Chief Commissioner has no dieam of 
annexation, his only ambition being to govern justly the 
people entrusted to his care ; to protect them in tlieir i-ights 
to put down violence and robbery, for the country has been 
in such a fearful state of disorganization, that the interior 
has been overrun with bands of robbers. Dacoity, as it is 
called, has been the terror of the country, as much as brig- 
andage has been of Sicily. But the English are now putting 
it down with a strong hand. To develop the resources of 
the country, the Government seeks to promote internal com- 
munication and foreign commerce. At Bangoon the track 
is already laid for a railroad up the country to Prome. The 
seaports are improved and made safe for ships. With such 
facilities Burmah may have a large commerce, for which she 
has ample material. Her vast forests of teak would supply 
the demand of all Southern Asia ; while the rice from the 
delta of the Irrawaddy may in the future, as in the past, feed 
the millions of India who might otherwise die from famine. 

With the establishment of this civilized rule there opens a 
prospect for the future of Burmah, which shall be better 
than the old ag? of splendid tyranny. Says Mason : " The 
golden age when Pegu was the land of gold, and the Irra- 
waddy the river of gold, has passed away, and the country 
degenerated into the land of paddy (rice), and the stream 
into the river of teak. Yet its last days are its best days. 
If the gold has vanished, so has oppression ; if the geiua 
have fled, so have the taskmasters ; if the palace of the 
Brama of Toungoo, who had twenty-six crowned heads at 
Ms command, is in ruins, the slave is free." The poor native 
has now some encouragement to cultivate his rice field, for 
its fruit will not be taken from him. The great want of the 
country is the same as that of the Western States of Amer« 
ica— population. British Burmah has but three mf lliojis of 



302 THE GREAT PAGODA. 

inhabitants, while, if tlie country were as thicklj settled M 
Belgium and Holland, or as some parts of Asia, it might 
support thirty millions. Such a population cannot come at 
once, or in a century, but the country may look for a slow 
jut steady growth from the overflow of India and China, 
that shall in time rebuild its waste places, and plant towns 
and cities along its rivers. 

While thus interested in the political state of Burmah we 
cannot forget its religion. In coming from India to Farther 
India we have found not only a new race, but a new faith 
and worship. While Brahminism rules the great Southern 
Peninsula of Asia, Buddhism is the religion of Eastern Asia, 
numbering more adherents than any other religion on the 
globe. Of this new faith one may obtain some idea by a visit 
to the Great Pagoda, The Buddhists, like the priests of 
some other religions, choose lofty sites for their places of wor- 
ship, which, as they overtop the earth, seem to raise them 
nearer to heaven. The Great Pagoda stands on a hill, oi 
rocky ledge, which overlooks the city of Rangoon and the 
valley of the Irrawaddy. It is approached by a long flight of 
steps, which is occupied, like the approaches to the ancient 
temple in Jerusalem, by them that buy and sell, so that it is 
a kind of bazaar, and also by lepers and blind men, who 
stretch out their hands to ask for alms of those who mount 
the sacred hill to pray. Ascending to the summit, we find a 
plateau, on which there is an enclosure of perhaps an acre or 
two of ground. The Pagoda is a colossal structure, with a 
broad base like a pyramid, though round in shape, sloping 
upwards to a slender cone, which tapers at last to a sort of 
spire over three hundred feet high, and as the whole, from 
base to pinnacle, is covered with gold leaf, it presents a very 
dazzling appearance, when it reflects the rays of the sun. Asa 
pagoda is always a solid mass of masonry, with no inner place 
of worship — not even a shrine, or a chamber like that in the 
heart of the Great Pyramid — there was more of fei vor than 0/ 



THE GREAT PAGODA. 303 

fitness in the language of an English friend of missions;, \rho 
prayed " that the pagodas might resound with the praises of 
God ! " They might resound, but it must needs be on the out- 
side. The tall spire has for its extreme point, what architecti? 
call a finial — a kind of umbrella, which the Burmese call a 
'* htee," made of a series of iron rings gilded, from which hang 
many little silver and brass bells, wh\ch, swinging to and fro 
with every passing breeze, give forth a dripping musical sound. 
The Buddhist idea of prayer is not limited to human speech ; 
it may be expressed by an offering of flowers, or the tinkling 
of a bell. It is at least a pretty fancy, which leads them 
to suspend on every point and pinnacle of their pagodas 
these tiny bells, whose soft, aerial chimes sound sweetly in 
the air, and floating upward, fill the ear of heaven with a 
constant melody. Besides the Great Pagoda, there are other 
smaller pagodas, one of which has lately been decorated with 
a magnificent " htee," presented by a rich timber merchant 
of Maulmain. It is said to have cost fifty thousand dollars 
as we can well believe, since it is gemmed with diamonds am 
other precious stones. There was a great festival whei. 
it was set up in its place, which was kept up for several 
days, and is just over. At the same time he presented an 
elephant for the service of the temple, who, being thus con- 
secrated, is of course a sacred beast. We met him taking 
his morning rounds, and very grand he was, with his crimson 
and gold trappings and howdah, and as he swung along with 
becoming gravity, he was a more dignified object than the 
worshippers around him. But the people were very good- 
natured, and we walked about in their holy places, and made 
our observations with the utmost freedom. In the enclosure 
are many pavilions, some of which are places for worship 
and others rest-houses for the people. The idols are hide us 
objects, as ail idols are, though perhaps better looking thau 
those of the Hindoos. They represent Buddha in all post 
fcions, before whose image candles are kept burning. 



304 THE GKEAT PAGODA. 

In the grounds is an enormous bell, wliich is constantly 
struck by the worshippers, till its deep vibrations make the 
very air around holy with prayer. With my American 
curiosity to see the inside of everything, I crawled under it 
(it was hung but a few inches above the ground), and rose 
up within the hollow bronze, which had so long tiembled 
with pious devotion. But at that moment it hung in silence, 
and I crawled back again, lest by some accident the enormous 
weight should fall and put an extinguisher on my further 
comparative study of religions. This bell serves another 
purpose in the worship of Buddhists. They strike upon it 
before saying their prayers, to attract the attention of the 
recording angel, so that they may get due credit for their 
act of piety. Those philosophical spirits who admire all reli- 
gions but the Christian, will observe in this a beautiful econ- 
omy in their devotions. They do not wish their prayers to 
be wasted. By getting due allowance for them, they not 
only keep their credit good, but have a balance in their favor. 
It is the same economy which leads them to attach prayers to 
water-wheels and windmills, by which the greatest amount of 
praying may be done with the least possible amount of labor 
or time. The one object of the Buddhist religion seems to 
be to attain merit, according to the amount of which they 
will spend more or less time in the realm of spirits before 
returning to this cold world, and on which depends also the 
form they will assume on their reincarnation. Among those 
who sit at the gate of the temple as we approach, are holy 
men, who, by a long course of devotion, have accumulated 
Buch a stock of merit that they have enough and to spare, 
and are willing to part with it for a consideration to others 
less fortunate than themselves. It is the old idea of works 
of supererogation over again, in which, as in many othe? 
things, they show the closest resemblance to Bomanism. 

But however puerile it may be in its forms of worship 
y^et as a religion Buddhism is an immeasurable advance ob 



BUDDHISM BETTEB THAN HESTDOOISM. 305 

BrahminisDQ. In leaving India we have left behind Hindoo 
ism, and are grateful for the change, for Buddhism is alto- 
gether a more respectable religion. It has no bloody rites likt 
those of the goddess Kali. It does not outrage decency nor 
morality. It has no obscene images nor obscene worship. It 
has no caste, with its bondage and its degradation. Indeed, the 
scholar who makes a study of different religions, will rank 
Buddhism among the best of those which are uninspired ; if 
he does not find in its origin and in the life of its founder 
much that looks even like inspiration. There is no doubt that 
Buddha, or Gaudama, if such a man ever lived (of which 
there is perhaps no more reason to doubt than of any of the 
great characters of antiquity), began his career of a religious 
teacher, as a reformer of Brahminism, with the honest and 
noble purpose of elevating the faith, and purifying the lives 
of mankind. Mason, as a Christian missionary, certainly 
did not desire to exaggerate the virtues of another religion, 
and yet he writes of the origin of Buddhism : 

" Three hundred years before Alexandria was founded ; about the 
time that Thales, the most ancient philosopher of Europe, was 
teaching in Greece that water is the origin of all things, the soul of 
the world ; and Zoroaster, in Media or Persia, was systematizing the 
fire-worship of the Magi ; and Confucius in China was calling on the 
teeming multitudes around him to offer to guardian spirits and the 
manes of their ancestors ; and Nebuchadnezzar set up his golden 
image in the plains of Dura, and Daniel was laboring in Babylon to 
establish the worship of the true Grod ; a reverend sage, with hia 
staff and scrip, who had left a throne for philosophy, was travelhng 
from Gay a to Benares, and from Benares to Kanouj, exhorting the 
people against theft, falsehood, adultery, killing and intemperance. 
No temperance lecturer advocates teetotalism now more strongly 
than did this sage Gaudama twenty-three centuries ago. Nor did 
he confine his instructions to external vices. Pride, anger, lust, 
envy and covetousness were condemned by him in as strong terms 
as are ever heard from the Christian pulpit. Love, mercy, patience, 
self-denial, alms-giving, truth, and the cultivation of wisdom, he 
required of all. Good actions, good words, and good thoughts were 



306 PRAOTICAL EFFECTS OF BtJDDHISM. 

the frequent subjects of his sermons, and he was unceasing in hie 
cautions to keep the mind free from the turmoils of passion, and 
^.;'^ cares of life. Immediately after the death of this venerable 
peripatetic, his disciples scattered themselves abroad to propagate 
the doctrines of their master, and tradition says, one party entered 
the principal mouth of the Irrawaddy, where they traced its banks 
to where the first rocks lift themselves abruptly above the flats 
around. Here, on the summit of this laterite ledge, one hundred and 
sixty feet above the river, they erected the standard of Buddhism, 
which now lifts its spire to the heavens higher than the dome of St. 
Paul's." 

In its practical effects Buddhism is favorable to virtue ; 
and its adherents, so far as they follow it, are a quiet and 
inoffensive people. They are a kind of Quakers, who follow 
an inward light, and whose whole philosophy of life is one of 
repression of natural desires. Their creed is a mixture of 
mysticism and stoicism, which by gentle meditation subdues 
Ae mind to '^ a calm and heavenly frame," a placid indiffer- 
ence to good or ill, to joy or sorrow, to pleasure and pain. 
It teaches that by subduing the desires — pride, envy, and 
ambition — one brings himself into a state of tranquillity, in 
which there is neither hope nor fear. It is easy to see 
where such a creed is defective ; that it does not bring out 
the heroic virtues, as shown in active devotion to others' 
good. This active philanthropy is born of Christianity. 
There is a spiritual selfishness in dreaming life away in this 
idle meditation. But so far as others are concerned, it bids 
no man wrong his neighbor. 

Buddha's table of the law may be compared with that of 
Moses. Instead of Ten Commandments, it has only Five, 
which correspond very nearly to the latter half of the Deca- 
logue. Indeed three of them are precisely the same, viz. , 
Do not kill ; Do not steal ; and Do not commit adultery j 
and the fourth. Do not lie, includes, as a broader statement, 
the Mosaic command not to bear false witness against one'fl 
neighbor; but the last one of all, instead of being "not to 



RESEMBLANCE TO KOMANISM. 301 

^ret," is, Do not become intoxicated. These commands are 
all prohibitions, and enforce only the negative side of vir- 
tue. They forbid injury to property and life and reputation, 
and thus every injury to one's neighbor, and the last of all 
forbids injury to one's self, while they do not urge active 
benevolence to man nor piety towards God. 

These Five Commandments are the rule of life for all men. 
But to those who aspire to a more purely religious life, there 
are other and stricter rules. They are required to renounce 
the world, to live apart, and practice rigid austerities, in 
order to bring the body into subjection„ Every day is to be 
one of abstinence and self-denial. To them are given five 
other commands, in addition to those prescribed to mankind 
generally. They must take no solid food after noon (a fast 
not only Friday, but every day of the week) ; they must 
not visit dances, singing or theatrical representations ; must 
use no ornaments or perfumery in dress ; must not sleep in 
luxurious beds, and while living by alms, accept neither gold 
nor silver. By this rigid self-discipline, they are expected to 
be able to subdue their appetites and passions and overcome 
the world. 

This monastic system is one point of resemblance between 
Buddhism and Romanism. Both have orders of monks and 
nuns, who take vows of celibacy and poverty, and live in 
convents and monasteries. There is also a close resemblance 
in their forms of worship. Both have their holy shrines, 
and use images and altars, before which flowers are placed, 
and lamps are always burning. Both chant and pray in an 
unknown tongue.* 

* Dr. S. Wells WiUiams, who was familiar with Buddhism during 
his forty years residence in China, says ("Middle Kingdom," Vol- 
11., p. 257): 

'* The numerous points of similarity between the rites of the Budd' 
hists and those of the Romish Church, early attracted attention. . 
Buch as the vow of celibacy in both sexes, the object of their seclu 



308 RESEMBLANCE TO ROMANISM. 

This resemblance of the Buddhist creed and worship U 
their own, the Jesuit missionaries have been quick to st>e, 
and with their usual artfulness have tried to use it ao ac 

sion^ the loss of hair, taking- a new name and looking after the care of 
the convent. There are many grounds for supposing that their fav' 
orite goddess Kwanyin, i. e., the Hearer of Cries, called also Holy 
Mother, Queen of Heaven, is only another form of Our Lady. The 
monastic habit, holy water, counting rosaries to assist in prayer, the 
ordinances of celibacy and fasting, and reciting masses for the dead, 
worship of relics, and canonization of saints, are alike features of 
both sects. Both bum candles and incense, and bells are much used 
til their temples : both teach a purgatory, from which the soul can 
be delivered by prayers, and use a dead language for their liturgy, 
and their priests pretend to miracles. These striking resemblances 
led the Romish missionaries to suppose that some of them had been 
derived from the Romanists or Syrians who entered China before the 
twelfth century ; others referred them to St. Thomas, but Premare 
ascribes them to the devil, who had thus imitated holy mother 
church in order to scandalize and oppose its rights. But as Davis 
observes : ' To those who admit that most of the Romish ceremonies 
are borrowed directly from Paganism, there is less difficulty in ac 
counting for the resemblance. ' 

The following scene in a Buddhist temple described by an eye> 
witness, answers to what is often seen in Romish churches : 

" There stood fourteen priests, seven on each side of the altar, 
erect, motionless, with clasped hands and downcast eyes, their shaven 
heads and flowing gray robes adding to their solemn appearance. The 
low and measured tones of the slowly moving chant they were sing- 
ing might have awakened solemn emotions, and called away the 
thoughts from worldly objects. Three priests kept time with the 
music, one beating an immense drum, another a large iron vessel, 
and a third a wooden bell. After chanting, they kneeled upon low 
stools, and bowed before the colossal image of Buddha, at the same 
time striking their heads upon the ground. Then risicg and facing 
each other, they began slowly chanting some sentences, and rapidly 
increasing the music and their utterance until both were at the cli- 
max of rapidity, they diminished in the same way until they had re- 
turned to the original measure. . . . The whole eervioe forcibly 
reminded me of scenes in Romish chanelfi." 



AMERICAN MISSION ARTES EN BTJRMAH. 3 Of. 

argtiiiient to smooth the way fo" the conversion of the 
Asiatics by representing the change as a slight one. But 
the Buddhist, not to be outdone in quickness, answers that 
the difference is so slight that it is not worth making the 
change. The only difference, they say, is " we worship a 
man and you worship a woman ! " 

But Christianity has had other representatives in Burmah 
than the Jesuits. At an early day American missionaries, 
as if they could not go far enough away from home, in their 
zeal to carry the Gospel where it had not been preached be- 
fore, sought a field of labor in Southeastern Asia. More 
than sixty years ago they landed on these shores. They 
planted no colonies, waged no wars, raised no flag, and made 
no annexation. The only flag they carried over them was 
that of the Gospel of peace. And yet in the work they 
wrought they have left a memorial which will long preserve 
their sainted and heroic names. While in Rangoon I took 
up again " The Life of Judson " by Dr. Way land, and read it 
with new interest on the very spot which had been the scene 
of his labors. Nothing in the whole history of missions is 
more thrilling than the story of his imprisonment. It was 
during the second Burmese war. He was at that time at 
Ava, the capital of Burmah, where he had been in favor till 
now, when the king, enraged at the English, seized all that 
he could lay hands upon, and threw them into prison. He 
could not distinguish an American, who had the same fea- 
tures and spoke the same language, and so Judson shared 
the fate of the rest. One day his house was entered by an 
officer and eight or ten men, one of whom he recognized 
by his hideous tattooed face as the executioner, who seized 
him in the midst of his family, threw him on the floor, drew 
out the instrument of torture, the small cord, with which he 
hound him, and hurried him to the death prison, where he 
was chained, as were the other foreigners, each with three 
|..airs of fetters to a pole. He expected nothing but death^ 



810 DE. JTTDSON IN PRISON. 

out the imprisonment dragged on for months, varied "witk 
every device of horror and of cruelty. Often he was chained 
to the vilest malefactors. Sometimes he was cast into an 
inner prison, which was like the Black Hole of Calcutta, 
where his limbs were confined with five pairs of fetters. Sc 
loathsome was his prison, that he counted it the greatest 
favor and indulgence, when, after a fever, he was allowed to 
sleep in the cage of a dead lion ! This lasted nearly two 
years. Several times his keepers had orders (as they con- 
fessed afterward) to assassinate him, but, restrained perhaps 
by pity for his wife, they withheld their hand, thinking that 
disease would soon do the work for them. 

During all that long and dreadful time his wife watched 
over him with never-failing devotion. She could not sleep 
in the prison, but every day she dragged herself two miles 
through the crowded city, carrying food for her husband and 
the other English prisoners. During that period a child was 
born, whose first sight of its father was within prison walls. 
Some time after even his heathen jailors took pity on him, 
and allowed him to take a little air in the street outside of 
the prison gate. And history does not present a more touch- 
ing scene than that of this man, when his wife was ill, carry- 
ing his babe through the streets from door to door, asking 
Burman mothers, in the sacred name of maternity, of that 
instinct of motherhood which is universal throughout the 
world, to give nourishment to this poor, emaciated, and dying 
child. 

But at length a day of deliverance came. The English 
army had taken Rangoon and was advancing up the Irra 
waddy. Then all was terror at Ava, and the tyrant that had 
thrown Judson into a dungeon, sent to bring him out and 
to beg him to go to tlie English camp to be his interpreter, 
and to sue for terms of peace. He went and was received 
with the lionor due to his character and his sufferings. But 
the heroine of the camp was that noble American woman, 



DEVOTION OF HIS WIFE. 811 

whose devotion had saved, not only the life of her hiisbandj 
hut the lives of all the English prisoners. The commander- 
in-chief received her as if she had been an empress, and at a 
great dinner given to the Burmese ambassadors placed her at 
his right hand, in the presence of the very men to whom she 
had often been to beg for mercy, and had been often driven 
brutally from their doors. The tables were turned, and they 
were the ones to ask for mercy now. They sat uneasy, giv- 
ing restless glances at the missionary's wife, as if fearing lest 
a sudden burst of womanly indignation should impel her to 
demand the punishment of those who had treated her with 
such cruelty. But they were quite safe. She would not 
touch a hair of their heads. Too happy in the release of the 
one she loved, her heart was overflowing with gratitude, and 
she felt no desire but to live among this people, and to do 
good to those from whom she had suffered so much. They 
removed to Amherst, at the mouth of the Salwen Biver, 
and had built a pretty home, and were beginning to realize 
their dream of missionary life, when she was taken ill, and, 
broken by her former hardships, soon sank in death. 

Probably " The Life of Judson " has interested American 
Christians in Burmah more than all the histories and geo- 
graphical descriptions put together. General histories have 
never the interest of a personal narrative, and the picture of 
Judson in a dungeon, wearing manacles on his limbs, ex- 
posed to death in its most terrible forms, to be tortured or 
to be crucified, and finally saved by the devotion of hih wife, 
has touched the hearts of the American people more than *iJ.i 
the learned histories of Eastern Asia that ever were written. 

And when I stood at a humble grave on Amherst Point, 
looking out upon the sea, and read upon the stone the na.ne 
of Ann Hasseltine Judson, and thought of that gentle 
American wife, coming out from the peace and protection of 
her New England home to face such dangers, I felt that I 
had never bent over the dust of one more worthy '"f all th# 



312 FRUIT OF AMERICAN MISSIONS. 

honors of womanhoo.1 and sainthood ; tender and shrinking, 
but whom love made strong and brave ; who walked among 
coarse and brutal men, armed only with her own native mod- 
esty and dignity : who by the sick-bed or in a prison cast 
light in a dark place by her sweet presence ; and who united 
all that is noble in woman's love and courage and de\otion. 

Judson survived this first wife about a quarter of a century 
— a period full of labor, and in its later years, full of precious 
fruit. That was the golden autumn of his life. He that had 
gone forth weeping, bearing precious seed, came again re- 
joicing, bringing his sheaves with him. I wish the Church 
in America could see what has been achieved by that well- 
spent life. Most of his fellow-laborers have gone to their 
rest, though Mr. and Mrs. Bennett at Rangoon, and Dr. and 
Mrs. Haswell at Maulmain, still live to tell of the trials and 
struggles of those early days.* And now appears the fruit of 
all those toilsome years. The mission that was weak has 
grown strong. In Rangoon there are a number of missiona- 
ries, who have not only established churches and Christian 
schools, but founded a College and a Theological Seminary. 
They have a Printing Press, under the charge of the veteran 
Mr. Bennett, who has been here forty-six years. In the in- 
terior are churches in great numbers. The early missionaries 
found a poor people — a sort of lower caste among the Bur- 
mese — the Karens. It may almost be said that they caught 
them in the woods and tamed them. They first reduced their 
language to writing ; they gave them books and schools, and 
to-day there are twenty thousand of this people who are 
members of their churches. In the interior there are man^ 
Christian villages, ^^ith native churches and native pastors, 
supported by the people themselves, whose deep povertj 
alounds to their liberality in a way that recalls Apostolic 
times. 

• Dr. Haswell died a few months after we left Burmah. 



LEATING RANGOON. 313 

The field which has been the scene of such toils and sacri 
fices properly belongs t^ the denomination which has giver 
such examples of Christian devotion. The Baptists were the 
first to enter the country, led by an apostle. The Mission 
in Burmah is the glory of the Baptist Church, as that of the 
Sandwich Islands is of the American Board. They have a 
sort of right to the land by reason of first occupancy — a 
right made sacred by these early and heroic memories; and I 
trust will be respected by other Christian bodies in the exer- 
cise of that comity which ought to exist between Churches 
as between States, in the possession of a field which they 
have cultivated with so much zeal, wisdom, and success. 

It is not till one leaves Rangoon that he sees the beauty 
of Burmah. The banks of the Irrawaddy, like those of the 
Hoogly, are low and jungly ; but as we glide from the river 
into the sea, and turn southward, the shores begin to rise, 
till after a few hours' sail we might be on the coast of Wales 
or of Scotland. The next morning found us at anchor off the 
mouth of the Salwen River. The steamers of the British 
India Company stop at all the principal ports, and we were 
now to pass up the river to Maulmain. But the Malda was 
too large to cross the bar except at very high tide, for which 
we should have to wait over a day. The prospect of resting 
here under a tropical sun, and in full sight of the shore, was 
not inviting, and we looked about for some way of escape. 
Fortunately we had on board Miss Haswell, of the well- 
known missionary family, who had gone up from Maulmain 
to Rangoon to see some friends off" for America, and was now 
returning. With such an interpreter and guide, we det<^r- 
mined to go on shore, and hailing a pilot-boat, went down 
the ship's ladder, and jumped on board. The captain thought 
us very rash, as the sea was rough, and the boat rose and 
plunged in the waves ; but the Malays are like sea-gulls ?n 
the water, and raising their sail, made of bamboo poles, 
14 



314 THE GRAVE AT AMIIERST POINT. 

and rush matting, we flew l^efore the wind, and were scox 
lauded at Amherst Point. This was holy ground, for here 
Judson had lived, and here his wife died and was buried. 
Her grave is on the sea-shore, but a few rods from the water, 
and we went straight to it. It is a low mound, with a plain 
headstone, around which an American sea captain had placed 
a wooden paling to guard the sacred spot. There she sleeps, 
with only the murmur of the waves, as they come rippling up 
the beach, to sing her requiem. But her name will not die, 
and in all the world, where love and heroism are remembered, 
what this woman hath done shall be told for a memorial of 
her. Her husband is not here, for (as the readers of his life 
will remember) his last years were spent at Maulmain, from 
vhich he was taken, when very ill, on board a vessel, bound 
for the Mauritius, in hope that a voyage might save him when 
all other means had failed, and died at sea when but four 
days out, and was committed to the deep in the Bay of Ben- 
gal. One cannot but regret that he did not die on land, thai 
he might have been buried beside his wife in the soil of 
Burmah; but it is something that he is not far away, and 
the waters that roll over him kiss its beloved shores. 

Miss Haswell led the way up the beach to the little house 
which Judson had built. It was unoccupied, but there was 
an old bedstead on which the apostle had slept, and I 
stretched myself upon it, feeling that I caught as much in- 
spiration lying there as when I lay down in the sarcophagus 
of Cheops in the heart of the Great Pyramid. We found a 
rude table too, which we drew out upon the veranda, and a 
family of native Christians brought us rice and milk and 
eggs, with which we made a breakfast in native style. Tho 
family of Miss Haswell once occupied this mission house, 
and it was quite enlivening to hear, as we sat there quietly 
taking our rice and milk, how the tigers used to come around 
and make theriselves at lioino, snufFmg about the doors, and 
carrjing off dogs from the veranda, and kiUing a buffalo ir 



SAIL UP THE SALWEN KIVER. 31f 

the front yard. They are not quite so familiar now along 
the <;oast, but in the interior one can hardly go thro igh a 
forest without coming on their tracks. Only last year Misa 
Has well, on her way to attend the meeting of an association, 
camped in the woods. She found the men were getting 
sleepy, and neglected the fire, and so she kept awake, and sat 
up to throw on the wood. It was well, for in the night sud- 
denly all the cattle sprang up with every sign of terror, and 
there came on the air that strong smell which none who have 
perceived it can mistake, which shows that a tiger is near. 
Doubtless he was peering at them through the covert, and 
nothing but the blazing fire kept him away. 

After our repast, we took a ride in native style. A pair 
of oxen was brought to the door, with a cart turned up at 
both ends, in such a manner that those riding in it were 
dumped into a heaj) ; and thus well shaken together, we rode 
down to the shore, where we had engaged a boat to take us 
up the river. j.t was a long slender skiff, which, with its 
GOV firing of bamboo bent over it, was in shape not unlike a 
gondola of Yenice. The arch of its roof was of course not 
very lofty ; we could not stand up, but we could sit or lie 
dowiA, and here we stretched ourselves in glorious ease, and 
as a ftleasant breeze came in from the sea^ our little bark 
moved swiftly before it. The captain of our boat was a 
venerable- looking native, like some of the Arabs we saw on 
the Nile, with two boatmen for his ** crew," stout fellows, 
whose brawny limbs were not confined by excess of clothing. 
In fact, they had on only a single garment, a kind of French 
blouse, which, by way of variety, they took off and washed 
in the river as we sailed along. However, thev had another 
clout for a change, which they drew over them with great 
dexterity before they took off the first, so as not to offend ua. 
Altogether the scene was not mlike what some of my read- 
ers may have witnessed on one cf our Southern rivers j and 



316 MAULMAIN. 

if we could only have had the rich i oices of the negro boat 
men, singing 

" Down on the Sawannee River," 

fche illusion would have been complete. Thus in a dreamy 
mood, and with a gentle motion, we glided up the beautiful 
Salwen, between low banks covered with forests, a distance of 
thirty miles, till at five o'clock we reached the lower end of 
Maulmain, and went ashore, and rode two or three miles up 

the river to Dr. Haswell's, where Miss H. claimed C for 

her guest, while T was entertained at her brother's in the old 
missionary compound, where Dr. Judson lived for so many 
years, and which he left only to die. These American 
friends, with their kind hospitalities, made us feel quite at 
home in Burmah ; and as if to bring still nearer Christian 
England and America, we were taken the same evening to a 
prayer-meeting at the house of an English officer who is in 
command here, where they sang Sankey's hymns ! 

Maulmain is a place of great natural beauty. Though on 
the river, it rises from the water's edge in steep and wooded 
banks, and has a background of hills. One can hardly find 
a loveKer view in all the East than that from the hill behind 
it, on which stands an old Buddhist monastery and pagoda. 
Here the eye ranges over a distance of many miles. Sev- 
eral rivers which flow together give the country the appear- 
ance of being covered with water, out of which rise many 
elevated points, like islands in a sea. In clear weather, after 
the rains, one may see on the horizon the distant peaks of 
the mountains in Siam. This was a favorite resort of Dr. 
Judson, who, being a man of great physical as well as intel- 
lectual vigor, was fond of walking, and loved to climb the 
hills. Miss Haswell, who as a child remembered him, told 
us how she once saw him here *' playing tag " with his wife, 
chasing her as she ran down the hill. This picture of tht 
old man delighted me — to think that not all his labors and 



BULDHIST MONKS. 8 1' 

Buirerings could si.bdue that unconquerable spiritj but that 
he retained even to old age the freshness of a boy, and waa 
as hearty in play as in preaching. This is the sort of muscu 
lar Christians that are needed to face the hardships of a mis- 
sionary life — men who will not faint in the heat of the 
tropics, nor falter at the prospect of imprisonment or death. 

While we stood here the Buddhist monks were climbing 
slowly up the hill, and T could but think of the difference 
betweei] our intrepid missionary and these languid, not to 
Bay lazy, devotees. We had a good chance to observe them, 
and to remark their resemblance to similar orders in the 
Church of Home. The Buddhist monk, like his Komish 
brother, shaves his head, eats no animal food (the command 
of Buddha not to kill, is interpreted not to take life of any 
kind), and lives only by the alms of the faithful. Seeing 
them here, with their shaven heads and long robes, going 
about the streets, stopping before the doors to receive their 
daily tributes of rice, one is constantly reminded of the men- 
dicant friars of Italy. They live in monasteries, which are 
generally situated, like this, on the tops of hills, retired 
from the world, where they keep together for mutual instruc- 
tion, and to join in devotion. They do no work except to 
cultivate the grounds of the temple, but give up their lives 
to meditation and to prayer. 

It would be wrong to speak of such men but with proper 
respect. They are quiet and inoffensive ; some of them are 
learned ; still more are serious and devout. Says Dr. Wil- 
liams " Their largest monasteries contain extensive libraries, 
and a portion of the fraternity are well acquainted with let- 
ters, though numbers of them are ignorant even of theii 
own books." "Their moral character, as a class, is on a 
par with their countrymen, and many of them are rcFpecta- 
ble, intelligent, and sober-minded persons, who seem to be 
sincerely desirous of making themselves better, if possible^ 
by their religious observances." 



318 DREAMING LIFE AWAY. 

But this life of a recluse, while favorable to study anG 
meditatiorij does not inspire active exertion. Indeed the 
whole Buddhist philosophy of life seems to be comprised in 
this, that man should dream away existence here on earth, 
and then lapse into a dreamy eternity. 

" To be or not to be, that's the question ; " 

and for them it seems better *' not to be." Their heaven — 
their Nirvana — is annihilation, yet not absolute non-existence, 
but only absorption of their personality, so that their separate 
being is swallowed up and lost in God. They will still be con- 
scious, but have no hope and no fear, no dread and no desire, 
but only survey existence with the ineffable calm of the In- 
finite One. This passive, emotionless state is expressed in 
all the statues and images of Buddha. 

If that be heaven, it is not earth ; and they who pass life 
in a dream are not the men to revolutionize the world. This 
whole monastery, full of monks, praying and chanting for gen- 
orations, cannot so stir the mind of Asia, or make its power 
felt even in Burmah, as one heroic man like Judson. 

Miss Haswell belongs to a family of missionaries. Her 
father and mother were companions of Judson, f^nd the 
children are in one way and another devoted to the same 
work. She has a school for girls, which is said to be 
the best in Burmah. The Chief Commissioner at Rangoon 
spoke of it in the highest terms, and makes special mention 
of it in his Report. She told us with great modesty, and 
almost with a feeling of shame, of the struggle and mor- 
tification with which she had literally " begged " the money 
for it in America. But never did good seed scattei»d on the 
waters bear richer fruit. If a deputation from all the Bap- 
tist churches which contributed to that school could but pa^f 
it a visit, and see what it is doing, it would never want foi 
funds hereafter. 

Burmah is a country which needs all good influences < 



TISIT TO A PRISON. 319 

moral and religious. It needs also a strong govornmeni;, jnst 
laws rigidly enforced, to keep peace and order in the land 
For though the people are so gay and merry, there is a fear- 
ful degree of crime. In Maulmain tiiere is a prison, which 
holds over a thousand prisoners, many of whom have been 
guilty of the worst crimes. A few days since there was an 
outbreak, and an attempt to escape. A number got out of 
the gate, and were running till they were bro ught up by shots 
from the military. Seven were killed and seven wounded. 
I went through this prison one morning with the physician 
as he made his rounds. As we entered a man was brought 
up who had been guilty of some insubordination. He had 
once attempted to kill the jailer. The Doctor inquired 
briefly into the offence, and said, without further words : 
'* Give him fifteen cuts." Instantly the man was seized and 
tied, arms extended, and legs fastened, so that he could not 
move, and his back uncovered, and an attendant standing off, 
so that he could give his arm full swing, gave him fifteen 
cuts that made the flesh start up like whip-cord, and the 
blood run. The man writhed with agony, but did not 
scream. I suppose such severity is necessary, but it was a 
very painful sight. In the hospital we found some of the 
prisoners who had been concerned in the mutiny. The ring- 
leader had been shot in the leg, which had been amputated 
They had found that the ways of transgressors were hard. 

Continuing our walk, we went through the different work- 
shops, and saw the kinds of labor to which the men were 
put, such as making chairs of bamboo, weaving cloth, beating 
cocoauut husks to make stuff for mattresses, carving, making 
furniture, blacksmithing, &c. The worst offenders were pui 
to grinding corn, as tliat was a species of labor in which they 
had no tools which, could be used as deadly weapons. The 
men in this ward — perhaps a hundred in number — were des- 
perate characters. They were almost all highway robbers^ 
Dacoits, bands of whom have long been the terror of thf 



320 ELEPHANTS IN THE TIMBER YARDS. 

country. They all had irons on their ankles, and stood up 
to their tasks, working with their hands. I was not sorry 
to see " their feet made fast in the stocks," for in looking 
into their savage faces, one could but feel that he would 
rather see them in chains and behind iron bars, than meet 
them alone in a forest. 

But I turn to a more agreeable spectacle. It is sometimes 
more pleasant to look at animals than at men, certainly when 
men make beasts of themselves, and when, on the other 
hand, animals show an intelligence almost human. One of 
the great industries of Burmah is the timber trade. The 
teak wood, which is the chief timber cut and shipped, is very 
heavy, and requires prodigious force to handle it ; and as the 
Burmese are not far enough advanced to use machinery for 
the purpose, they employ elephants, and bravely do the noble 
beasts perform their task. In the timber yards both at Ban- 
goon and at Maulmain, all the heavy work of drawing and 
piling the logs is done by them. I have never seen any ani- 
mals showing such intelligence, and trained to such docility 
and obedience. In the yard that we visited there were seven 
elephants, five of which were at that moment at work. Their 
wonderful strength came into play in moving huge pieces of 
timber. I did not measure the logs, but should think that 
many were at least twenty feet long and a foot square. Yet 
a male elephant would stoop down, and run his tusks under 
a log, and throw his trunk over it, and walk off with it as 
lightly as a gentleman would balance his bamboo cane on the 
tip of his finger. Placing it on the pile, he would measure 
it with his eye, and if it projected too far at either end, 
would walk up to it, and with a gentle push or pull, make 
the pile even. If a still heavier log needed to be moved on 
the ground to some part of the yard, the mahout, sitting on 
the elephant's head, would tell him what to do, and the greal 
Dreature seemed to have a perfect understanding of his 
master's will. He would put out hin enormous foot, ane 



RURMAH AND BIAM. 321 

push it along ; or he would bend his head, and crouching 
half way to the ground, and doubling up his trunk in front j 
thiow his whole weight against it, and thus, like a ram, 
would "butt" the log into its place; or if it needed to be 
taken a greater distance, he would put a chain around it, 
and drag it off behind him. The female elephant especially 
was employed in drawing, as having no tusks, she could not 
lift like her big brothers, but could only move by her power 
of traction or attraction. Then using her trunk as deftly as 
a lady would use her fingers, she would untie the knot or 
unhitch the chain, and return to her master, perhaps putting 
out her trunk to receive a banana as a reward for her good 
conduct. It was a very pretty sight, and gave us a new idea 
of the value of these noble creatures, and of the way in which 
they can be trained for the service of man, since they can be 
not only made subject to his will, but taught to understand 
it, thus showing equal intelligence and docility. 

After a day or two thus pleasantly passed, we went on 
board the Malda (which had finally got over the bar and 
come up to Maulmain), and dropped down the river, and 
were soon sailing along the coast, which grows more beauti- 
ful as we steam southward. We pass a great number of 
islands, which form the Mergui Archipelago, and just now 
might be off the shores of Greece. Within these sheltered 
waters is Tavoy, from which it is proposed to build a road 
over the mountains to Bangkok in Siam. There has long 
been a path through the dense forest, but one that could o aly 
be traversed by elephants. Now it is proposed to have' a 
good road, the expense to be borne by the two kingdoms. I? 
not this a sign of progress, of an era of peace and good will 7 
Formerly Burmah and Siam were always at war. Being 
neighbors and rivals, they were " natural enemies," as much 
as were France and England. But now the strong English 
hand imposes peace, an i the two countries seek a closer oon* 
aection. The road thus inaugurated will bind them ta 
14* 



322 PENANG. 

gether, arid prove not only an avenue of commerce bat a 
highway of civilization, 

At PenaDg we enter the Straits of Malacca, on ona side of 
ivhich is the Malayan Peninsula, and on the other the island 
of Sumatra, which is larger than all Great Britain, and 
where just now, at this upper end, the Dutch have a war oa 
their hands. Penang is opposite Acheen, and the Malays, 
who are engaged in such a desperate resistance to the Dutch, 
often cross the Straits, and may be seen at any time in the 
streets of the English settlement. Perhaps it is but natural 
that the English should have a sympathy with these natives, 
who are defending their country against invaders, though J 
do not perceive that this makes them more ready to yield 
the ground on their own side of the Straits, where just now, 
at Perak, they have a little war of their own. To this war 
in Acheen I may refer again, when I come to write of the 
Dutch power in Java. 

Bayard Taylor celebrates Penang as " the most beautiful 
island in the world," which is a great deal for one to say vho 
has travelled so far and seen so much. I could not be quite 
so enthusiastic, and yet I do not wonder at any degree of 
rapture in one who climbs the Peak of Penang, which com- 
mands a view not only of the town and harbor below, but of 
other islands and waters, as well as of mountains and valleys 
in the interior, which are a part of Siam. Turning seaward, 
and looking down, this little island of Penang appears as the 
gem of the scene — a mass of the richest tropical vegetation, 
Bet in the midst of tropical seas. 

We were now in the tropics indeed. We had been for 
weeks, but we had a more *' realizing sense " of it as we got 
into the lower latitudes. The heat grew intense as we ap 
preached the Equator. One after another we laid aside thf 
garments of the colder North, and put on the lightest and 
thinnest costume, till we did not know but our only relief 
«vould be that suggested by Sydney Smith, " to take off oiu 



APPEOAGHING THE EQUATOB. 323 

flesh and sit in our bones." With double awnings spread 
over the deck, and the motion of the ship stiiring the air, 
still ^e vertical sun was quite overpowering. We were 
obliged to keep on deck day and night, although there was 
ample room below. As there were but eight passengers in 
the cabin, each had a state-room; but with all this space, an<l 
portholes wide open, still it was impossible to keep cool. An 
iron ship becomes so heated that the state-rooms are like 
ovens. So we had to take refuge on deck. Every evening 
the servants appeared, bringing our mattresses, which were 
spread on the skylight above the cabin. This was very well 
for the gentlemen of our company, but offered no relief of 
coolness for our only lady passenger. But a couple of gal- 
lant young Englishmen, who with us were making the tour 
of the world, were determined that she should not be im- 
prisoned below, and they set up on deck a screen, in which 
she was enclosed as in a tent ; and not Cleopatra, when 
floating in her gilded barge, reclined more royally than she, 
thus lifted up into the cool night air. Then we all had our 
reward. The glory of the night made up for the lervors of 
the day. From our pillows we looked out upon the sea, and 
as the hot day brought thunderstorms, the lightning playing 
on the distant horizon lighted up the watery leagues around, 
till it seemed as if we were 

" Alone, alone, all, all alone, 
Alone on the wide, wide sea," 

floating on in darkness over an unfathomable abyss. At 
other times the sea was luminous with the light which she 
carries in her own bosom. These Southern seas are full of 
those marine insects which shine like glow-worms in the 
dark ; and when the waters were calm and still, when there 
was not a ripple on the bosom of the deep, we leaned ovei 
the stern of the ship to watch the long track of light which 
bhe left in the phos}>horesceiit sea. But brighter than tliis 



524 SOUTtfERN point: of ASIA — SDTGAPOBE. 

watery illumination was the sky above, whicli was all aglo"» 
with celestial fires. We had long become familiar with the 
Southern Cross, which we first saw in Egypt on the Nile, 
near the First Cataract. But then it was just above the 
horizon. ]S ow it shone in mid-heaven, while around it were 
gathered the constellations of the Southern hemisphere. J 
have seen the stars on the desert and on the sea, but nevei 
anything before that quite equalled these nights on the 
Equator. 

But our voyage was coming to an end. We had already 
been twice as long on the Bay of Bengal as in crossing the 
Atlantic. It was the last day of March when the captain 
of the ship came to me, as I was standing on deck, and said : 
" Do you see that low point of land, with the trees upon it, 
coming down to the water? That is the most Southern 
point of Asia." That great continent, which we saw first at 
Constantinople, and had followed so far around the globe, 
ended here. An hour afterward, as we rounded into Singa- 
pore, a hand pointed Eastward, and a voice at my side said : 
*' Uncle, there's the Pacific ! " She who spoke might per- 
haps have said rather, " There are the China Seas," but they 
are a part of the great Ocean which rolls its waters from Asia 
to America. 

Singapore is on an island, at the very end of the penin- 
sula, so that it may be called truly "the jumping-off place." 
On this point of land, but a degree and a half from the 
Equator, England has planted one of those colonies by which 
she keeps guard along the coasts, and over the waters, of 
Bouthern Asia. The town, which has a population of nearly 
a hundred thousand, is almost wholly Chinese, but it is tkj 
English power which is seen in the harbor filled with ships, 
and the fort mounted with guns ; and English taste which, 
has laid out the streets and squares, and erected the public 
buildings. This might be called the Island of Palms, which 
grow here in gre{ t profusion — the tall cocoanut palm witk 



SmGAPORE. 32i 

its slender stem, the fan palm with its bi Dad leaves, and many 
other varieties which mantle the hillsides, forming a rich 
background for the European bungaloes that peer out from 
jnder a mass of tropical foliage. 

Whoever goes around the world must needs pass by Sin- 
gapore. It is the one inevitable point in Asia, as San Fran- 
cisco is in America. One is sure to meet here travellers, 
mostly English and American, passing to and fro, from India 
to China, or from China to India, making the Grand Tour. 
So common are they that they cease to inspire as much awe 
as Marco Polo or Capt. Cook, and have even received the 
nickname of " globe-trotters," and are looked upon as quite 
ordinary individuals. Singapore is a good resting -poimt for 
Americans — a convenient half-way house — as it is aWost 
exactly on the other side of the globe from New Y')rk, 
Having *' trotted " thus far, we may be allowed to res ', at 
least over Sunday, before we take a new start, arxii a^^ ( ; vaj 
into the Southen hsmisphere. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 

THE ISLAND OF JAVA. 

Most travellers who touch at Singapore sweep lound that 
point like a race-horse, eager to be on the " home stretch.'' 
But in turning north, they turn away from a beauty of which 
they do not dream. They know not what islands, embow- 
ered in foliage, lie in those Southern seas — what visions 
would reward them if they would but ** those realms ex- 
plore." The Malayan Peninsula is a connecting link between 
two great divisions of the globe ; it is a bridge hundreds of 
miles long — a real Giants' Causeway, reaching out from the 
mainland of Asia towards the Island World beyond — a world 
with an interest all its own, which, now that we were so near, 
attracted us to its shores. Leaving our fellow-travellers to 
go on to Siam or to China, we took the steamer of the Neth- 
erlands India Company for Java. It was a little boat of but 
250 tons, but it shot away like an arrow, and was soon flying 
like a sea-bird among islands covered with palm groves. On 
our right was the long coast of Sumatra. Towards evening 
we entered the Straits of Rhio, and in the night crossed the 
Equator. When as a child I turned over the globe, I found 
this line indicated by a brass ring, and rather expected that 
the ship would get a thump as she passed over it ; but sho 
crossed without a shock, or even a jar ; ocean melted into 
ocean ; the waters of the China and the Java seas flowed to- 
gether, and we were in the Southern hemisphere. 

The first thing on board which struck us strangely was that 
we had lost our language. The steamer vas Dutch, and the 



WILD MEN OF THE WOODS. 327 

officers spoke onlj Dutch But on all these waters will be 
found passing to and fro gentlemen of intelligence, holding 
official positions here, but who have lived long in Europe, and 
who speak English or French. At Khio we were joined by 
the Resident, the highest official of that island, and by the 
Inspector of Schools from Batavia ; and the next day, as 
we entered the Straits of Banca, by the Resident of Pa- 
lembang in Sumatra — all of whom were very polite to us as 
strangers. We saw them again in Java, and when we parted, 
felt almost that they were not only acquaintances, but friends. 
They were of course thoroughly informed about the new 
world around us, and were ready to enlighten our ignorance. 
We sat on deck at evening, and as they puffed their cigars 
with the tranquillity of true Dutchmen, we listened to their 
discourse about the islands and people of the Malayan Archi- 
pelago. 

This part of the world would delight Mr. Darwin by the 
strange races it contains, some of which approach the animal 
tribes. In the island of Rhio the Resident assured me there 
were wild men who lived in trees, and had no language but 
cries ; and in Sumatra the Resident of Palembang said there 
were men who lived in the forests, with whom not only the Eu- 
ropeans, but even the Malays, could have no intercourse. He 
himself had never seen one. Yet, strange to say, they have 
a petty traffic with the outer world, yet not through the me- 
dium of speech. They live in the woods, and live by the 
chase. Thej'^ hunt tigers, not with the gun, but with a weapon 
called a sumpitan, which is a long tube, out of which they 
blow arrows with such force, and that are so keen of point, 
and touched with such deadly poison, that a wound is al- 
most immediately fatal. These tiger skins or elephant tusks 
they bring for barter — not for sale — they never sell any- 
thing, for money is about the most useless thing they could 
have ; they cannot eat it, or drink it, or w^ear it. But as 
they have wants, they exchange ; yet they themselves are 



328 THE ISLAND OF SUMATRA. 

never seen. They bring what they have to the edge of the 
forest, and leave it there, and the Malays come and placa 
what they have to dispose of, and retire. If the offer la 
satisfactory, when the Malays return they find what thev 
brought gone, and take what is left and depart. If not, they 
add a few trifles more to tempt the eyes of these wild men of 
the woods, and so at last the exchange is effected, yet all the 
while the sellers keep themselves invisible. This mode of 
barter argues great honesty on both sides. 

This island of Sumatra is a world in itself. The Resident 
of Palembang has under him a country as large as the whole 
of Java. The people of Palembang are Malays and Chinese, 
thousands of whom live on rafts. In the interior of the 
island there are different races, speaking a dozen different 
languages or dialects. But with all its population, the 
greater part of the country is still given up to forest and 
jungle, the home of wild beasts- -of the tiger and the rhino- 
ceros. Wild elephants range the forests in great numbers. 
He had often seen them in herds of two or three hundred. 
It seemed strange that they were not tamed, as in India and 
Burmah. But such is not the habit of the people, who hunt 
them for ivory, but never attempt to subdue them, or use 
them as beasts of burden. Hence they become a great 
nuisance, as they come about the villages and break into the 
plantations ; and it is only when a grand hunt is organized 
for their destruction, that a neighborhood can be for a time 
rid of the pest. 

But if these are uncomfortable neighbors, there are others 
that are more so — the reptiles, which abound here as in In- 
dia. But familiarity breeds contempt or indifference. The 
people are not afraid of them, and hardly notice them, but 
Bpeak of them in an easy sort of way, as if they were the 
most harmless things in nature — poor innocent creatures, 
which might almost be pets in the family, and allowed to run 
about the house at their will. Soberly, there are certain do 



DCMESTICATED SNAKES. 329 

mestic snakes which are indulged with these liberties. Said 
Mr. K. : "I was once visiting in Sumatra, and spending a 
night at the house of a friend. I heard a noise overhead, 
and asked, * What is that ? ' * Oh, nothing,' they said ; * it's 
only the serpent.' 'What! do you keep a family snake?' 
' Yes,' they said ; it was a large black snake which frequented 
Mie house, and as it did no mischief, and hunted the rats, 
they let it roam about wherever it liked." Thinking this 
rather a big story, with which our friend might practise on 
fhe credulity of a stranger, I turned to the Resident of 
Palembang, who confirmed it. He said this domestication 
of serpents was not uncommon. There was a kind of boa 
that was very useful as an exterminator of rats, and for this 
purpose the good Dutch housekeepers allowed it to crawl 
about or to lie coiled up in the pantry. Sometimes this in- 
teresting member of the family was stretched out on the 
veranda to bask in the sun — a pleasant object to any stranger 
who might be invited to accept hospitality. I think I should 
have an engagement elsewhere, however pressing the invita- 
tion. I never could " abide " snakes. From the Old Serpent 
down, they have been my aversion, and I beg to decline their 
company, though they should be as insinuating as the one 
that tempted Eve. But an English merchant in Java after- 
wards assured me that " snakes were the best gardeners ; that 
they devoured the worms and insects and small animals; 
and that for his part, he was rather pleased than otherwise 
when he saw a big boa crawling among the vines or in the 
rice-fields." I thought that the first instance of a serpent's 
gardening was in Paradise, the effect of which was not en- 
couraging, but there is no disputing about tastes. He said 
fchey frequently came around the houses, but did not often 
ente? them, except that they were very fonu of music (the dear 
creatures !) ; and sometimes in the evening, as doors and win 
dows were left open for coolness, if the music was very fine, s 
head might be thrust in of a guest that had not been invited 



330 SUMATEA. 

But our convei-sation was not limited to this harrowing 
topic, but ranged over many features of Sumatra — its scenes- 
and climate, soil and vegetation. It is indeed a magnific^|li 
island. Over a thousand miles long, and with more square 
miles than Great Britain and Ireland together, it is large 
8nough for a kingdom. In some parts the scenery is as grand 
as that of Switzerland. Along the western coast is a range 
of mountains like the Alps (some peaks are 15,000 feet 
high), among which is set many an Alpine valley, with its 
glistening lake. That coast is indented with bays, on one 
of which is the Dutch capital, Padang. East of the moun- 
tains the island spreads out into vast plains, watered by no- 
ble rivers. The soil is very rich, yielding all the fruits of 
the tropics in great abundance. The tobacco especially is of 
a much finer quality than that of Java, and brings twice as 
much in the market. This fertility will attract population 
both from Asia and from Europe, and under a good govern- 
ment this island may yet be the seat of an empire worthy of 
its greatness. 

But just now the Dutch have a task to bring it into sub 
jection. They have an enemy in the North harder to sub 
due than tigers and wild elephants. These are the terrible 
Malays, against whom has been kept up for years the war in 
Acheen — a war waged with such deadly and unrelenting 
hate and fury, that it has taken on a character of ferocity. 
Of the right or wrong of this savage contest, I cannot judge, 
for I hear only one side of the story. I am told that the 
Malays are a race of pirates, with whom it is impossible to 
live in good neighborhood, and that there can be no peace 
till they are subdued. At the same time, one cannot refuse 
a degree of sympathy even to savages who defend their own 
country, and who fight with such conspicuous bravery. To 
this all the Dutch officers bore testimony, saying that they 
fought " like devils." The Malaya are very much like our 
American Indians, both in features and in character — a 



THE WAS IN AOHEEN. 331 

proud, hign-spitited race, capable of any act of courage o? 
devotion, but full of that hot blood that resents an ingul^^ 
*^ If you have a Malay servant," I heard often in the East, 
" you may scold him or send him away, but never strike Mm. 
for that is an indignity which he feels more than a wound ; 
which he never forgets or forgives ; but which, if he has an 
opportunity, he will avenge with blood." Such a people, 
when they come into battle, sacrifice their lives without a 
moment's hesitation. They have a great advantage, as they 
ar*^ in their own territory, and can choose their own time 
and place of attack, or keep out of the way, leaving the 
enemy to be worn out by the hot climate and by disease. Of 
course if the Dutch could once bring them within range of 
their guns, or entice them into a pitched battle, European 
skill and discipline would be victorious. But the Malays are 
too wary and active ; they hide in the fastnesses of the hills, 
and start up here and there in unexpected quarters, and after 
a sudden dash, fly to the mountains. They have a powerful 
ally in the pestilential climate, which brings on those deadly 
fevers that kill more than perish in battle. Such a war 
may drag on for years, during which the Dutch territory will 
not extend much beyond the place? occupied by troops, or 
the ports defended by the guns of the fleet. If the Dutch 
hold on with their proverbial tenacity, they may conquer in 
the end, though at an immense cost in treasure and in life, 
If the Malays are once subdued, and by a wise and lenient 
policy converted to some degree of loyalty, they may prove, 
like the Sikhs in India, the brave defenders of the power 
against which they fought so well. 

With such conversation to lighten the hours, fchey did not 
seem long, as we were running through the Java Sea. On 
the third day from Singapore, we came among the Thousand 
Islands, and in the afternoon descried on the horizon the 
mountains of Java, and * List at sunset were in the roads of 
Batavia. There is no harbor, but an open roadstead ; and 



332 BATAVIA. 

here a "whole fleet of ships were riding at anchOT-^ships di 
war and merchant ships from all parts of the world. It was 
two or three miles from the quay, but as the evening drew 
on, we could see lights along the shore ; and at eight o'clock, 
just as the gun was fired from the flagship of the Dutch Ad- 
miral, we put ofi" in a native boat, manned by a Malay crew, 
It was a beautiful moonlight night, and we seemed to bf 
floating in a dream, as our swarthy boatmen bent to their 
oars, and we glided silently over a tropical sea to this un- 
known shore. 

At the Custom House a dark-skinned official, whose but- 
tons gave him a military air, received us with dignity, and 
demanded if we had *' pistolets," and being satisfied that we 
were not attempting an armed invasion of the island, gave 
but a glance at our trunks, and politely bowed us to a car- 
riage that was standing outside the gates, and away we 
rattled through the streets of Batavia to the Hotel Neder- 
land. 

The next morning at an early hour we were riding about 
to "take our bearings'' and adjust ourselves to the situa- 
tion. If we had not known where we were, but only that wf 
were in some distant part of the world, we could soon guess 
that we were in a Dutch rather than in an English colony. 
Here were the inevitable canals which the Dutch carry with 
them to all pai^ts of the earth. The city is intersected by 
these watery streets, and the boats in them might be lying at 
the quays of Rotterdam or Amsterdam. The city reminds us 
a good deal of the Hague, in its broad streets lined with 
trees, and its houses, which have a substantial Dutch look, as 
if they were built for comfort and not for show. They are 
low and large, spreading out over a great deal of surface, but 
QOt towering ambitiously upwards. A pretty sight it was to 
Bee these fine old mansions, standing back from the street, 
with ample space around them, embowered in trees ana 
Bhrubbory, with lawns and gardens kept in perfect order; anc? 



BATAVIA. 333 

With all the doors and windows wide open, through which 
we could see the breakfast tables spread, as if to invite even 
strangers, such as we were, to enter and share their hospi- 
tality. Before we left Java, we were guests in one of these 
mansions, and found that Dutch hospitality was not merely 
in name. 

Among the ornaments of the city are two large and hand- 
some public squares — the King's Plain and Waterloo Plain. 
The latter name reminds us that the Dutch had a part in the 
battle of Waterloo. With pardonable pride they are per- 
suaded that the contingent which they contributed to the 
army of Wellington had no small part in deciding the issue 
of that terrible day, and they thus commemorate their victory. 
This plain is used as a parade-ground, and the Dutch cavalry 
charge over it with ardor, inspired by such heroic memories. 

It may surprise some of my readers accustomed to our new 
American cities, to learn how old is Batavia. About the time 
that the Pilgrim Fathers sailed from Holland, another expe- 
dition from the same country carried the Dutch flag to the 
other side of the world, and Batavia was settled the year 
before the landing on Plymouth K-ock. Of course it was a 
very small beginning of their power in the East, but slowly 
the petty trading settlement grew into a colony, and its terri- 
tory was extended by degrees till, more than a hundred years 
after, it took in the whole island. In the old palace on 
Waterloo Plain, now used as a museum, are the portraits of 
Dutch governors who have ruled here for two hundred and 
fifty years. 

But the capital of Java — at least the residence of the Gov- 
ernor-General — is not at Batavia, but at Buitenzorg, nearly 
forty miles in the interior, to which one can go by railroad 
in two hours. As we took our seats in the carriage we had 
the good fortune to meet Mr, Fraser, an English merchant, 
who has lived many years in Java, and is well known and 
highly respected throughout the island, who gave us infor 



834 THE EICE FIELDS. 

mation of the 3oiintry over which we were passing. Th« 
plains near the sea had at this time an appearance of great 
beauty. They were laid out in rice fields which have a more 
vivid color than fields of grain, and now shone with an emer- 
ald green. It was the time of the gathering of the harvest, 
and the fields were filled with reapers, men and women, 
young men and maidens. But one hears not the click of 
the reaper. I am told that the attempt to introd.uce a mow- 
ing machine or a patent reaper would make a revolution in 
the island. All the rice of Java is cut by hand, and not 
even with the sickle, which is an instrument much too coarse 
for this dainty work, but with a knife three or four inches 
long, so that the spears are clipped as with a pair of scissors 
Taking a few blades gently, they cut them off", and when they 
have a handful bind it in a tiny sheaf about as large as a 
bunch of asparagus. When they have cut and bound up 
five, one is laid aside for the landlord and four go to the cul- 
tivators. 

This slow progress might make a young American farmer 
very impatient. Perhaps not, if he knew all the charms of 
the rice field, which might make a country swain quite will- 
ing to linger. Mr. Eraser explained that this season was 
the time, and the rice field the scene, of the matrimonial 
engagements made during the year ! Ah, now it is all ex- 
plained. Who can wonder that the gentle reapers linger over 
the rice blades while they are proposing or answering ques- 
tions on which their whole life may depend ? No doubt in 
merry England it has often happened that hay-making and 
love-making have gone on in the fields together. And we 
cannot wonder that such rural arts should be known iu a 
land warmed by a tropical sun. 

But the food of the natives is not found in the rice fieldf 
alone ; it is brought down from the top of the cocoanut palni) 
and drawn up from the bottom of caves of the earth. " Dc 
ycu see yonder small mountain ? " said Mr. F. " That is 8 



BUITEN20RG. 33^ 

ftimous hunting-ground for the edible birds' nests, which are 
esteemed such a delicacy bj the Chinese. The birds are 
swallows and build their nests in caves, into which the liunt- 
ers are let down by long bamboo ropes, and drawn up laden 
with spoil. So great has been the yield, and so highly prized, 
that the product of that hill exported to China in one year 
returned a profit of £4,000. Of late this has been much 
reduced, owing to the diminished production, or that the 
Chinese are not ready to pay so much for such dainty lux- 
uries." 

At Buitenzorg the low land of the coast is exchanged for 
the hd-lls. We are at the foot of the range of mountains 
which forms the backbone of the island. To give an idea of 
the character of the scenery, let me sketch a picture from my 
own door in the Bellevue Hotel. The rooms, as in all tropical 
climates, open on a broad veranda. Here, stretched in one 
of the easy chairs made of bamboo, we look out upon a scene 
which might be in Switzerland, so many features has it which 
are Alpine in their character. The hotel stands on a pro- 
jecting shelf of rock or spur of a hill, overlooking a deep 
gorge, through which flows, or rather rushes, a foaming 
mountain torrent, whose ceaseless murmurs come up from 
below ; while in front, only three or four miles distant, rises 
the broad breast of a mountain, very much like the lower 
summits or foothills of the Alps, which hang over many a 
sequestered vale in Switzerland or in the Tyrol. 

But here the resemblance ends. For as we descend from 
the broad outlines of the landscape to closer details, it changet 
from the rugged features of an Alpine pass, and takes its 
true tropical character. There are no snow-clad peaks, for 
we are almost under the Equator. The scene might be in the 
Andes rather than in the Alps. The mountain before us, the 
Salak, is a volcano, though not now in action. As we look 
down from our perch, the eye rests upon a forest such as is 
never seen in the Alps. Here are no dark pines, such a; 



336 THE BOTANICAL GARDEN. 

ciotloe' the sides of the vale of Chamouni. In the foregroiiiid 
on the river bank, at the foot of the hill, is a cluster of. native 
huts, half hidden by long feathery bamboos and b^-oad-leavcc! 
palms. The forest seems to be made up of palms of every 
variety — the cocoanut palm, the sago palm, and the sugar 
palm, with which are mingled the bread-fruit tree, and the 
nutmeg, and the banana ; and not least of all, the cinchona^ 
lately imported from South American forests, which yields 
the famous Peruvian bark. The attempt to acclimatize this 
shrub, so precious in medicine, has been completely successful, 
so that the quinine of Java is said to be even better than 
that of South America. In the middle distance are the rice 
fields, with their intense green, and farther, on the side of 
the mountain, are the coffee plantations, for which Java is so 
famous. 

Buitenzorg has a Botanical Gardeu, the finest by far to be 
found out of Europe, and the richest in the world in the 
special department of tropical plants and trees. All that the 
tropics pour from their bounteous stores ; all those forms of 
vegetable life created by the mighty rains and mightier sun 
of the Equator — gigantic ferns, like trees, and innumerable 
orchids (plants that live on air) — are here in countless pro- 
fusion. One of the glories of the Garden is an india-rubber 
tree of great size, which spreads out its arms like an English 
oak, but dropping shoots here and there (for it is a species 
of banyan) which take root and spring up again, so that the 
tree broadens its shade, and as the leaves are thick and tough 
as leather, offers a shield against even the vertical sun. There 
are hundreds of varieties of palms — African and South Ameri 
can — some of enormous height and breadth, which, as we 
walked under their shade, seemed almost worthy to stand on 
the banks of the Eiver of Life. 

Such a vast collection offers an attraction like the Gar del 
of Plants in Paris. I met here the Italian naturalist Beo 
cari, who was spending some weeks at Buitenzorg to make fi 



AN ITALIAN NATURALIST 337 

study of a garden in which he had the wnjle tropics in a 
space of perhaps a hundred acres. He has spent the last 
eight years of his life in the Malayan Archipelago, dividing 
his time, except a few months in the Moluccas, between Bor- 
neo and New Guinea. The latter island he considered riiher 
in its fauna and flora than any other equal spot on the sur- 
face of the globe, with many species of plants and animals un- 
known elsewhere. He had his own boat, and sailed along the 
coast and up the rivers at his will. He penetrated into the 
forest and the jungle, living among savages, and for the time 
adopting their habits of life, not perhaps dressing in skins, 
but sleeping in their huts or on the ground, and living on 
their food and such game as he could get with his gun. He 
laughed at the dangers. He was not afraid of savages or wild 
beasts or reptiles. Indeed he lived in such close companion- 
ship with the animal kingdom that he got to be in very inti- 
mate, not to say amicable, relations ; and to bear him talk of 
his friends of the forest, one would think he would almost beg 
pardon of a beast that he was obliged to shoot and stuff in 
the interest of science. He complained only that he could 
not find enough of them. Snakes he " doted on," and if he 
espied a monster coiling round a tree, or hanging from the 
branches, his heart leaped up as one who had found great 
spoil, for he thought how its glistening scales would shine in 
his collection. I was much entertained by his adventures. 
He left us one morning in company with our host Carlo, who 
is a famous hunter, on an expedition after the rhinoceros — a 
royal game, which abounds in the woods of Java. 

The beauty of this island is not confined to one part of 
it. As yet we have seen only Western Java, and :^ut 
little of that. But there is Middle Java and Eastern Jav % 
The island is very much like Cuba in shape — long and narrow, 
being near seven hundred miles one way, and less than a 
hundred the other. Thus it is a great breakwater dividing 
Khe Java Sea from the Indian Ocean. To see its generaJ 
15 



338 SAIL ALONG THE COAST — V0L0AN0E8. 

configuration, one needs to sail along the coast to g(;t a <iistani 
view ; and thee, to appreciate the peculiar character of itj 
scenery, he should make excursions into the interior. The 
Kesidents of E.hio and Palembang called to see us and madF 
out an itin^raire ; and Mr. Levyssohn Norman, the Sec 
retary General, to whom I brought a letter from a Dutci: 
officer whom we met at Naples, gave me letters to the Resi- 
dents in Middle Java. Thus furnished we returned to 
Batavia, and took the steamer for Samarang — two days' sail 
Co the eastward along the northern shore. As we put out 
(0 sea a few miles, we get the general figure of the island. 
riie great feature in the view is the mountains, a few miles 
fiom the coast, some of which are ten and twelve thousand 
feet high, which make the background of the picture, whose 
peculiar outline is derived from their volcanic character. 
Java lies in what may be called a volcano belt, which is just 
under the Equator, and reaches not only through Java, but 
through the islands of Bali and Lombok to the Moluccas. 
Instead of one long chain of equal elevation in every part, or 
a succession of smooth, rounded domes, there is a number of 
sharp peaks thrown up by internal fires. Thus the sky line 
is changing every league. European travellers are familiar 
with the cone-like shape of Yesuvius, overlooking the Bay 
of Naples. Here is the same form, repeated nearly fort;y 
times, as there are thirty-eight volcanoes in the island. 
A.round the Bay of Samarang are nine in one view ! Some 
of them are still active, and from time to time burst out in 
fearful eruptions ; but just now they are not in an angry 
mood, but smoking peacefully, only a faint vapor, like a fleecy 
cloud, curling up against the sky. All who have made the 
ascent of Vesuvius, remember that its cone is a blackened 
mass of ashes and scoriae. But a volcano here is not left 
to be such a picture of desolation. Nature, as if weary 
of ruin, and wishing to hide the rents she has made, ha« 
mantled its sides with the richest tropical vegetation. Af 



8AMARANG. 339 

we stand on the deck of our ship, and look landward, the 
mountains are seen to be covered near their base with forests 
of palms ; while along their breasts float belts of light cloudy 
above which the peaks soar into the blue heavens. 

A-t the eastern end of the island, near Sourabaya, there is a 
volcano with the largest crater in the world, except that of 
Kilauea in the Sandwich Islands. It is three miles across, and 
is filled with a sea of sand. Descending into this broad space, 
and wading through the sand, as if on the desert, one cornea 
to a new crater in the centre, a thousand feet wide, which is 
always smoking. This the natives regard with superstitious 
dread, as a sign that the powers below are in a state of anger ; 
and once a year they go in crowds to the mountain, dragging 
a bullock, which is thrown alive into the crater, with other 
offerings, to appease the wrath of the demon, who is raging 
and thundering below. 

Wednesday morning brought us to Samarang, the chief 
port of Middle, as Batavia is of Western, and Sourabaya of 
Eastern Java. As we drew up to the shore, the quay was 
lined with soldiers, who were going off to the war in Acheen. 
The regiments intended for that service are brought first to 
Java, to get acclimated before they are exposed to what would 
be fatal to fresh European troops. These were now in fine 
condition, and made a brave sight, drawn up in rank, with 
the band playing, and the people shouting and cheering. 
This is the glittering side of war. But, poor fellows ! they 
have hard times before them, of which they do not dream. 
It is not the enemy they need to fear, but the hot climate and 
the jungle fever, which will be more deadly than the kris of 
the Malay. These soldiers are not all Dutch; some are 
French. On our return to Batavia, the steamer carried down 
another detachment, in which I found a couple of Erench 
zouaves (there may have been others), one of whom told me 
ne had been in the surrender at Sedan, and the other had 
taken part in the siege of Paris. After their terms had 



S40 fHE EMPEROR OF SOLO. 

expired in the French army, the} enlisted in the Dutch ser 
<rice, and embarked for the other side of the world, to fight 
in a cause which is not their own. I fear they will nevei se€ 
France again, but will leave their bones in the jungles of 
Sumatra. 

But our thoughts are not of war, but of peace, as we ride 
through the long Dutch town, so picturesquely situated be- 
tween the mountains and the sea, and take the railway for 
the interior. We soon leave the lowlands of the coast, and 
penetrate the forests, and wind among the hills. Our first 
stop is at Solo, which is an Imperial residence. It is a curious 
relic of the old native governments of Java, that though the 
Dutch are complete masters, there are still left in the island 
an Emperor and a Sultan, who are allowed to retain their 
lofty titles, surrounded with an Imperial etiquette. The 
Emperor of Solo lives in his " Kraton," which is what the 
Seraglio is among the Turks, a large enclosure in which is 
the palace. He has a guard of a few hundred men, who 
gratify his vanity, and enable him to spend his money in 
keeping a number of idle retainers ; but there is a Dutch 
Resident close at hand, without whose permission he cannot 
leave the district, and hardly his own grounds ; while in the 
very centre of the town is a fort, with guns mounted, pointing 
towards his palace, which it could soon blow about his ears. 
Thus *' protected," he is little better than a State prisoner. 
But he keeps his title " during good behavior," and once a 
year turns out in grand state, to make an official visit to the 
Resident, who receives him with greab distinction ; and having 
thus " marched up the hill," he " marches down again." We 
had a letter to the Resident, and hoped to pay our respects 
to his Majesty, but learned that it would require several days 
to arrange an audience. It is a part of the Court dignity 
wrhich surrounds such a potentate, that he should not be easilj 
accessible, and we should be sorry to disturb the harmles# 
illusion. 



THE BUI TAN OF JOOKJA. 34l 

But if we did not see the " lion " of Solo, we saw the 
tigers, which were perhaps quite as well worth seeing. The 
Emperor, amid the diversions with which he occupies his 
royal mind, likes to entertain his military and official visitors 
with something better than a Spanish bull-fight, namely, a 
tiger -fight with a bull or a buffalo, or with men, for which he 
has a number of trained native spearmen. For these com^ 
bats his hunters trap tigers in the mountains ; and in a build- 
ing made of heavy timbers fitted close together, with only 
space between for light and air, were half a dozen of them in 
reserve. They were magnificent beasts ; not whelped in a 
cage and half subdued by long captivity, like the sleek crea- 
tures of our menageries and zoological gardens ; but the real 
kings of the forest, caught when full grown (some but a few 
weeks before), and who roared as in their native wilds. It 
was terrific to see the glare of their eyes, and to hear the 
mutterings of their rage. One could not look at them, even 
through their strong bars, without a shudder. A gentleman 
of Java told me that he had once caught in the mountains a 
couple of tigers in a pit, but that as he approached it, their 
roaring was so terrific, as they bounded against the sides of 
the pit, that it required all his courage to master a feeling of 
indescribable terror. 

Adjoining the dominion of Solo is that of Jookja, where, 
instead of an Emperor, is a Sultan, not quite so great a po- 
tentate as the former, but who has his chateau and his mili- 
tary guard, and goes through the same performance of play- 
ing the king. The Dutch Resident has a very handsome 
palace, with lofty halls, where on state occasions he receives 
the Sultan with becoming dignity — a mark of deference made 
all the more touching by the guns of the fort, which, from 
the centre of the town, keep a friendly watch for the least 
sign of rebellion. 

This part of Middle Java is very rich in sugar planU 
tions. One manufactory which we visited was said U 



342 A DRIVE SIX-.N-HAND. 

yield a profit of $400,000 a year. For is this the product 
of slave labor, like the sugar of Cuba. Yet it is not alto- 
gether free labor. There is a peculiar system in Java by 
which the government, which is the owner of the land, in 
renting an estate to a planter, rents those who live on it with 
the estate. It guarantees him sufficient labor to work his 
plantation. The people are obliged to labor. This is exacted 
partly as a due to the government, amounting to one or two 
days in the week. For the rest of the time they are paid 
small wages. But they cannot leave their employer at will. 
There is no such absolute freedom as that which is said to 
have ruined Jamaica, where the negro may throw down his 
tools and quit work at the very moment when the planter is 
saving his crop. The government compels him to labor, but 
it also compels his master to pay him. The system works 
well in Java. Laborers are kept busy, the lands are cul- 
tivated, and the production is enormous — not only mak- 
ing the planters rich, but yielding a large revenue to Holland. 
At Jookja the railroad ends. Further excursions into 
the country must be by a private carriage. Some thirty 
miles distant is an ancient ruin, which is in Java what the 
Great Pyramid is in Egypt, with which it is often compared. 
To reach this, we ordered a carriage for the next morning. 
Probably the landlord thought he had a Milord Anglais for 
his guest, who must make his progress through the island 
with royal magnificence ; for, when we rose very early for our 
ride, we found in front of the door a huge carriage with six 
horses t The horses of Java are small, but full of spirit, like 
the Canadian ponies. On the box was a fat coachman, who 
outweighed both of us inside. Behind us stood two feliowg 
of a lighter build, whose high office it was to urge our gal- 
lant steeds by voice and lash to their utmost speed. They 
were dressed in striped jackets, like circns-riders, and were 
as agile as cats. Whenever the mighty chariot lagged a 
little, they leaped to the ground, and running forward witl 



FINE ROADS. HOW THEY WERE BUILT. 343 

extraordinary swiftness, shouted and lashed the horses till, 
with their g(^adings and their cries, the beasts, driven to 
madness, reared and plunged and raced forward so wildly, 
that we almost expected to Le dashed in pieces. Such is the 
price of glory ! What grandeur was this ! When we were 
in Egypt, riding aboiit the streets of Cairo with two " syces " 
(sei'vants dressed in white, who run before a carriage to clear 
the way), I felt like Joseph riding in Pharaoh's chariot. But 
now I felt as if I were Pharaoh himself. 

Our route was through long avenues of trees, of palms 
and bamboos. The roads, as everywhere in Java, are excel- 
lent, smooth as a floor, solidly built, and well kept. To con- 
struct such roads, and keep them in repair, must be a work 
of great difficulty, as in the rainy season the floods come in 
such force as ■would sweep away any but those which are 
firmly bedded. These roads are said to be owing to a famous 
Dutch governor, Marshal Dsendels, who ruled here in the 
early part of this century. According to tradition he was 
a man of tremendous will, which he enforced with arbitrary 
and despotic authority. He laid out a system of highways, 
and assigned to certain native officers each his portion to 
build. Knowing that things moved slowly in these Eastern 
countries, and that the officers in charge might try to make 
excuses for delay, he added a gentle admonition that he 
should hold each man responsible ; and by way of quickening 
their sense of duty, he erected gibbets at convenient intervals 
along the road, and if an official failed to " come to time," 
he simply had him executed. The spectacle of a few of these 
native gentry hanging by the roadside had such an enlivening 
effect on the Javanese imagination, that the roads were built 
aa if by magic. Perhaps the system might be applied with 
excellent effect to " contractors " in other parts of the 
world ! 

But on the best roads this spef'd could not be kept up foi 
& long time. The stages were short, the relays being but five 



S44 THE <iAiiDEN OF JAVA. 

miles apart. Every three-quarters of an hout we changed 

horses. The stations were built over the roads, something 
in the style of an old-fashioned turnpike gate; so that we 
drove under the shelter, and the horses, dripping with foam, 
were slipped out of the carriage, and left to cool under tht 
shade of the trees, or rolled over in the dust, delighted to bo 
free. 

As we advanced, our route wound among the hills. On 
our right was Merap6, one of the great mountains of Java — 
his top smoking gently, while rice-fields came up to his foot. 
This middle part of the island is called the Garden of Java, 
and it might be called one of the gardens of the world. 
Nowhere in Europe, not even in Lombardy nor in England, 
have I seen a richer country. Every foot of ground is in a 
high state of cultivation. Not only are the plains and val- 
leys covered with rice-fields, but the hills are terraced to admit 
of carrying the culture far vip their sides. Here, as in West- 
ern Java, it was the time of the harvest, and the fields were 
filled with joyous reapers. To this perfect tilling of the earth 
it is due that this island is one of the most populous portions 
of the globe. The country literally swarms with inhabitants, 
as a hive swarms with bees ; but so few are their wants, that 
everybody seems to "live and be merry." We passed 
through a number of villages which, though the dwellings 
were of the rudest, yet had a pretty look, as they were em- 
bowered in foliage of palms and bamboos. As the country 
grew more hilly, our progress was not so swift. Sometimes 
we went down a steep bank to cross a river on a boat, and 
then it was not an easy task to draw up the carriage on the 
cppcsite bank, and we had to call on Caesar for help. Al- 
most a whole village would turn out. At one time I counted 
eighteen men pushing and tugging at our wheels, of course 
with no eye to the small coin that was scattered among 
them when the top of the bank was reached. So great wai 
the load of dignity we bore I 



fHB TEMPLE OF BOROBODO. 34E 

A.t nooD we reached the object of our journey in the 
-amous rains of Borobodo. Sir Stamford Raffles says 
that all the labor expended on the Pyramids of Egypt siuka 
into insignificance when compared with that bestowed ca 
the grand architectural remains of Java ; but after seeing 
Miis, th'"5 greatest on the island, his estimate seems to me 
very extravagant. This is much smaller than the Gr^at Py- 
ramid, in the space of ground which it covers, and lower in 
height, and altogether less imposing. But without making 
comparisons, it is certainly a wonderful pile. It is a pyra- 
mid in shape, some four hundred feet square, and nine stories 
high, being ascended by a series of gigantic steps or terraces. 
That it was built for Buddhist worship is evident from the 
figures of Buddha which cover its sides. It is the monu- 
ment not only of an ancient religion, but of an extinct civ- 
ilization, of a mighty empire once throned on this island, 
which has left remains like those of ancient Egypt. What a 
population and what power must have been here ages ago, to 
rear such a structure ! One can imagine the people gathered 
at great festivals in numbers such as now assemble at pil- 
grimages in India. Doubtless this hill of stone was often 
black with human beings (for as many could stand on its 
sides as could be gathered in the Coliseum at Rome), while 
on the open plain in front, stretching to a mountain in the 
background, a nation might have encamped, like the Israel- 
ites before Sinai, to receive the law. But the temple is in 
ruins, and there is no gathering of the people for worship 
anj more. The religion of the island is changed. Buddh- 
ism has passed away, and Islam has taken its place, to pass 
away in its turn. It was Good Friday, in 1876, that I stood 
on the top of this pyramid, and thought of Him who on this 
day sufifered for mankind, and whose religion is yet to pos- 
sess the world. When it has conquered Asia, it will cross 
the sea, ani take this beautiful island, from which it maj 
pass on to the mainland of the continent of Australia. 
15* 



346 PBETTY TOWNS W. THE INTEEIOB. 

In such musings we lingered for hours, wandering about 
the ruins and enjoying the landscape, which is one of the 
most beautiful we have seen in all our travels — the wide 
Bweep in the foreground reminding us of the view from 
Stirling Castle in Scotland. 

But the carriage is waiting, and once more the driver 
cracks his whip, his horses prance, and away we fly along 
the roads, through the valleys, and over the hills. At even* 
ing we reached Magellang, the centre of one of the districts 
into which Java is divided, and a town of some importance. 
It is a curious geographical fact that it stands exactly in the 
centre of the island. One spot is called the I^avel of Java. 
The Javanese think a certain hill is the head of a great nail, 
which is driven into the earth and holds the island firm in 
its place. If this be so, it is strange that it does not keep it 
more quiet. For if we may use the language of the brokers, 
we might say with truth that in Java '' real estate is active," 
since it is well shaken up once or twice a year with earth 
quakes, and is all the time smouldering with volcanoes. 

But however agitated underground, the country is very 
beautiful above it. Here as in all the places where the 
Dutch " most do congregate," there is a mixture of European 
civilization with the easy and luxurious ways of the East. 
Some of the villages are as pretty as any in our own New 
England, and reminded us of those in the Connecticut val- 
ley, being laid out with a broad open square or common in 
the centre, which is shaded by magnificent trees, and sur- 
rounded by beautiful residences, whose broad verandas and 
open doors give a most inviting picture of domestic comfort 
and generous hospitality. There is a club-house for the 
officers, and musio by the military band. The Residents 
always live very handsomely. They are the great men in 
every district. Each one has a spacious residence, with a 
military guard, and a salary of six or eight thousand dol- 
lars a year, with extras for the expense of entertaining or of 



THE REGENT OB MAGELLANG. 347 

I ravelling, and a liberal pension at the close of twenty yeara 
cf service. 

Magellang is marked with a white stone in our memories 
cf Java, as it was the scene of a novel experience. When 
V, e drove into the town, we found the hotel full, which obliged 
us to fall back upon our letter to the Kesident. He was 
absent, but his secretary at once took us in hand, and re- 
quested the " Regent " (a native prince who holds ojB&ce 
under the Dutch government, and has special oversight of 
the native population) to entertain us. He responded in 
the most courteous manner, so that, instead of being lodged 
at a hotel, we were received as guests in a princely residence. 
His '' palace " was in the Eastern style, of but one storj? 
(as are most of the buildings in Java, on account of earth- 
quakes), but spread "ut over a large surface, with rows of 
columns supporting its ample roof, presenting in front in its 
open colonnade what might be regarded as a spacious hall of 
audience ; and furnishing in its deep recesses a cool retreat 
from the heat of the tropical sun. A native guard pacing 
before the door indicated the official character of the occu- 
pant. The Regent received us with dignity, but with great 
cordiality. He was attired in the rich costume of the East. 
His feet were without stockings, but encased in richly em- 
broidered sandals. He could speak no English, and but a 
few words of French — only Malay, Dutch, and Javanese. 
j3ut he sent for a gentleman to dine, who was of Spanish 
descent, and who, though a native of Java, and had never 
been out of it, yet spoke both French and English, and thus 
we were able to converse. 

The Regent had a wife, and after a time she entered the 
hall, and welcomed my niece with a cordiality almost like 
that of two school-girls meeting. She was simply dressed, 
in the lightest costume, with bare feet, but in gold-embroid 
ered slippers. Everything in her attire was very plain 
except that her ears were hung with diamonds that fairly 



348 AND HIS TWO wrvEB. 

dazzled us with their brilliaucy. She began talking witi 
great volubility, and seemed not quite to comprehend why it 
was that we did not understand Malay or Javanese. How 
©ver, with the help of our interpreter, we got along, and werC: 
soon in the most contidcntial relations. She had very vague 
ideas of the part of the world we came from. We tried to 
make her understand that the world was round, and that we 
lived on the other side of the globe. We asked why the 
Regent did not go abroad to see the world ? But she signi- 
fied with a peculiar gesture, as if counting with her fingers, 
tliat it took a i^rreat deal of monev. She asked " if we were 
rich," to which we re})lied modestly that we had enough for 
Dur wants. As she talked of ftimily matters, she informed us 
that her lord had another wife. Of this she spoke without 
the least reserve. It was quite natural that he should desire 
this. She (his first wife) had been married to him over 
twenty years, and was getting a little passee, and he needed 
a young face to make the house bright and gay. Presently 
the second wife entered, and we were presented to her. She 
was very young — I should think not twenty years of age. 
Evidently the elder occupied the first place in the household, 
and the younger took the second. They seemed to stand in 
a kind of sisterly relation to each other, without the slightest 
feeling of jealousy be ween them. Both were very pretty, 
after the Malayan type — that is, with mild, soft eyes, and 
skins, not black, like Africans, but of a rich brown color. 
They would have been even beautiful if they had had also, 
what the Africans so often have, dazzling whit« teeth ; but 
this is prevented by the constant chewing of the betel-nut and 
tobacco. 

At half-past eight o'clock we went to dinner. C had 

the honor of sitting between the two wives, and enjoyed the 
courtesy of both, who prepared fruit for her, and by many little 
attentions, such as are understood in all parts of the world, 
■howed that they belonged '^o the vrue sisterhood of woman 



A HAPPY DOMESTIC SCENE. 34:9 

The j)osition of woman in Java is somewhat peculiar. The 
people are MohainmedanSj and yet the women are not secluded, 
aor do they veil their faces ; they receive strangers in their 
houses and at their tables; thus they have much greater free- 
dom than their sisters in Turkey or Egypt. The Regent, 
being a Mussulman, did not take wine, though he provided 
it for his guests. After the dinner, coffee was served, of a 
rich, delicious flavor — for Java is the land of coffee — followed 
by the inevitable cigar. I do not smoke, but could not allow 
my refusal to interfere with the habits of those whose guest 
I was, and could but admire the ineffable satisfaction with 
which the Kegent and his friend puffed the fragrant weed. 
While they were thus wreathed in clouds, and floating in a 
perfect Nirvana of material enjoyment, the gentler sex were 
not forgotten. The two wives took their pleasure in their 
own fashion. A small box, like a tea-caddy, was brought on 
the table, full of little silver cups and cases, containing leaves 
of the betel-nut, and spices, cassia and gambier, a little lime, 
and a cup of the finest tobacco. Out of these they prepared 
a delicate morsel for their lips. With her own dainty fingers, 
each rolled up a leaf of the betel-nut, enclosing in it several 
kinds of spices, and filling it with a good pinch of tobacco, 
which, our Spanish friend explained, was not so much for the 
taste, as to make the morsel plump and round, large enough 
to fill the mouth (or, as a wine-taster would say of his favorite 
madeira or port, to give it sufficient body) ; and also, he 
added, it was to clean the teeth, and to give an aromatic fra- 
grance to the breath ! I repeat, as exactly as I can recall them, 
bis very words. 

Whether the precious compound had all these virtues, cer- 
^inly these courtly dames took it with infinite relish, and 
rolled it as a sweet morsel under their tongues, and looked 
on their lord with no jealousy of his enjoyment of his cigar. 

Here was a picture of conjugal felicity. The family was 
evidently an affectionate an i happy one. The Regent loved 



350 RELATION OF MASTER AND SERVANT. 

both his wives, and they sat side by side without er vy or an 
charitableness, kappy in the sunshine of his face, and chewed 
their betel-nut with a composure, an aspect of tranquil enjoy- 
ment, which many in more civilized countries may admire, 
but cannot equal. 

In the morning, when the family came together, I remai ked 
that the first wife, who then apparently saw her husband for 
the first time, came forward, and bending low, kissed his 
jewelled hand; and soon after the second wife entered, and 
kissed the first wife's hand, thus observing that natural order 
of precedence which is so beautiful in every well-regulated 
family. 

I observed also with curious interest the relations of master 
and servant in this Oriental household. The divisions are 
very marked. The Hegent, for example, is regarded by his 
retainers with an awe as if he were a sacred person. No one 
approaches him standing. The theory is, that no inferior 
must ever be in a position or attitude where his head ia 
higher than his master's. If the Kegent but looks jxt a man, 
he drops as if shot with a bullet. If a servant wishes to 
communicate with his master, he falls, not on his knees, but 
on his haunches, and in this posture shuffles forward till he 
comes behind his chair, and meekly whispers a word into his 
ear. He receives his orders, and then shuffles back again. 
In one way, the division of ranks in Java is more marked 
even than that of castes in India. The Javanese language, 
which is a branch of the Malay, has three separate forms 
of speech — one, that used by a superior addressing an infiB- 
rior; second, that of an inferior addressing a superior; and 
a third, that used between equals. Such divisions would 
seem to cut ofi" all relations between those of different rank 
And yet, with all this stooping and bowing, abject as it seemi 
to us, the relation of the master to his dependants is rather 
patriarchal ; and to these same servants the Regent will 
speak, not only kindly, but familiarly, all the more so as the 



SECOND day's drive. 851 

lines are so drawn that there is no danger that they should 
ever presume on undue familiarity. 

In the morning the Regent took me out for a ramble. We 
strolled along under the trees, admiring the beauty of the 
country. After half an hour's walk, suddenly, like an appa- 
rition, an open phaeton stood beside us, with two beautlfu} 
ponies, into which the Kegent invited me to step, and taking 
his seat by my side, drove me about the town. We returned 
for breakfast, and then he sent for his musicians to give us a 
performance, who, beating on drums and other native instru- 
ments, executed a plaintive kind of music. With such at- 
tentions did this Javanese prince and his wives (none of whom 
we had ever seen till a few hours before, and on whom we 
had no claim whatever) win our hearts by their kindness, so 
that, when the carriage came round to the door, we were sorrj 
to depart. The Regent pressed us to stay a month, or as 
long as we would. We could not accept a longer hospitality; 
but we shall remember that which we had. We keep his 
photograph, with others which we like to look upon ; and if 
these words can reach the other side of the world, they will 
tell him that his American friends have not forgotten, and 
will not forget, the kind manner in which they were enter- 
tained in the island of Java by the Kegent of Magellang. 

The drive of to-day was hardly less interesting than that of 
yesterday, although our pride had a fall. It was a great 
come-down, after riding with six horses to be reduced to 
four ! But the mortification was relieved by adding now ajid 
then, at the steep places, a pair of buffaloes. As we were 
still in the hill country, we were all day among the coffee 
plantations, which thrive best at a considerable elevation 
above the sea. Other products of the island flourished 
around us in rich abundance : the spices — aloes and cassia, 
and nutmeg and pepper. And there was our old friend, the 
peanut. They were gathering perhaps the very nuts that 
were yet to ornament the st^i^nds of the apple- w^omen of Ne^F 



ib2 THE GKEAT FORTIJESS OF AMBAERAWA. 

York, and to be a temptation to bootblacks and newsboys 
Amid such, fields and forests, over mountain roads, and lis* 
tening to the roar of mountain streams, we came down tc 
Ambarrawa, a place of note in Java, as containing the 
strongest fortress in the island. It is planted here right in 
the heart of Middle Java, where, half a century ago, was a 
formidable insurrection, which was quelled only after an ob 
stinate contest, lastincj five vears — from 1825 to 1830. Am- 
barrawa is connected by railroad with Samarang, It is easy 
to see that both the railroads which start from that point, 
and which have thus a base on the sea (the one leading to 
Solo and Jookja, the residences of the Emperor and the 
Sultan, who might make trouble, and the other to the great 
fortress of Ambarrawa), have been constructed with a mili- 
tary as well as a commercial purpose. 

So the Dutch have had their wars in Java, as the English 
have had in India ; but having conquered, it musi be said 
that on the whole they have ruled wisely and well. The best 
proof of this is the perfect tranquillity that reigns everywhere, 
and that with no great display of armed force. What a con- 
trast in this respect between the two most im2)oitant islanda 
in the East and West Indies — Java and Cuba ! They are 
about equal in the number of square miles. Both have been 
settled by Europeans for nearly three centuries, and yet to- 
day Cuba has less than two millions of inhabitants, and is in 
a chronic state of insurrection; while Java has over fifteen 
millions (or eight times as many), and is as quiet as Holland 
itself. The whole story is told in one word — the one is 
Dutch rule, and the other is Spanish rule. 

We spent our Easter in Samarang — a day which is not 
forgotten in this part of the world, although Sunday is not 
observed after the manner of Scotland or New England, bui 
rather of Continental Europe, with bands playing on the 
public square, and all the European world abroad keeping 
holiday. From Samarang, another two days' sail along th* 



KETUKN TO BATAVIA. 353 

same northern coast, with the grand outline of mountains ca 
the horizon, brought us back to Batavia. 

Batavia was not the same to us on the second visii as on 
the first ; or rather it was a great deal more, for now we 
knew the place, the streets were familiar, and we felt at 
home — the more so as a Scotch gentleman, to whom we 
brought a letter from Singapore, Mr. James Greig (of the 
old house of Syme, Pitcairn & Co., so well known in the 
East), took us in charge, and carried us off to one of those 
large mansions which we had so much admired on our former 
visit, set far back from the street, and surrounded with trees ; 
and constructed especially for this climate, with spacious 
rooms, wide hall, high ceilings, and broad veranda, and all 
the devices for mitigating the heat of the tropics. More 
than all, this hospitable mansion was lighted up by the sweet- 
est feminine presence in one who, though of an old Dutch 
family well known in Java, had been educated in Paris, and 
spoke English and French, as well as Dutch and Malay, and 
who gave us such a welcome as made us feel that we were 
not strangers. Not only did these friends open their house 
to us, but devoted themselves till our departure in going 
about with us, and making our visit pleasant. I do not 
know whether to call this Scotch or Dutch hospitality, but 
it was certainly of the most delightful kind. 

As we had three or four days before the sailing of the 
French steamer for Singapore, our friends planned an excur- 
sion into the mountains of Western Java, for which we re- 
turned to Buitenzorg, and engaged a couple of cahars, 
carriages as light as if made of wicker-work, with the 
Email Javanese ponies, and thus mounted, began to climb the 
hills. Our route was over the great post-road, which runa 
through the island to Sourabaya — a road which must have 
been constructed with immense labor, as it passes over high 
mountains, but which is as solidly built and as well kept ae 
Napoleon's great road over the Simplon Pass of the AJpg 



354 EXCURSION INTO THE MOUNTAINS. 

Indeed it is very mucli the samCj having a rocky Led foi its 
foundation, with a macAdaniized surface, over which the car- 
riage rolls smoothly. But it does not climb so steadily up- 
ward as the Simplon or the Mont Cenis. The ascent is act 
one long pull, like the ascent of the Alps, but by a succession 
of hills, one beyond another, with many a deep valley between, 
B3 that we go alternately up hill and down dale. The hills are 
very steep, so that the post-carriage, which is as heavy and 
lumbering as a French diligence, has to be drawn up by 
buffaloes. Thus it climbs slowly height after height, and 
when it has reached the summit, goes thundering down the 
mountain, and rolls majestically along the road. But our 
liglit carriages suited us much better than these ponder- 
ous vehicles ; and as our little ponies trotted swiftly along, 
we were in a very gay mood, making the woods ring with 
our merry talk and glee. Sometimes we got out to stretch 
our limbs with a good walk up the hills, turning as we reached 
the top to take in the landscape behind us, which spread out 
broader and broader, as we rose higher and higher. At 
every stage the view increased in extent and in majesty, till 
the whole island, 

" From the centre all round to the sea," 

was piled with mountains, which here, as in Middle Java, 
showed their volcanic origin by their forms, now rising in 
solitary cones, and now lying on the horizon in successive 
ridges, like mighty billows tossed up on a sea of fire, that in 
cooling had cracked in all fantastic shapes, which, after being 
worn down by the storms of thousands of years, were mantled 
thick with the verdure of forests. As in England the ivy creeps 
over old walls, covering ruined castles and towers with its per* 
petual greeuj so here the luxuriance of the tropics has over- 
spread the ruin wrought by destroying elements. The effect 
is a mingled wildness and beauty in these mountain land 
wapes, which often reminded us of Switzerland and the Tyrol, 



SINDANGLAYA. H6b 

Tb i enjojm^ni of this ride was increased by the charactei 
of the day, which was i.ot all sunshine, bnt one of perpetiial 
change. Clouds swept over the sky, casting shadows on the 
aides of the mountains and into the deep valleys. Some- 
times the higher summits were wrapped so as to be hidden 
from sight, and the rain fell heavily ; then as the storm 
drifted away, and the sun burst through the parted clouds, 
the glorious heights shone in the sudden light like the J)e^ 
lectable Mountains. 

The object of our journey was a mountain retreat four 
thousand feet above the level of the sea — as high as the Righi 
Kulm, but in no other respect like that mountain-top, which 
from its height overlooks so many Swiss lakes and cantons. 
It is rather like an Alpine valley, surrounded by mountains. 
This is a favorite resort of the Dutch from Batavia. Here 
the Governor-General has a little box, to which he retires, 
from his grander residence at Buitenzorg, and here many 
sick and wounded officers find a cool retreat and recover 
strength for fresh campaigns. The place bears the musical 
name of Sindanglaya, which one v/ould think might have 
been given with some reference to the music of murmuring 
winds and waters which fill the air. The valley is full of 
streams, of brooks and springs, that run among the hills. 
Water, water everywhere ! The rain pattering on the roof 
all night long carried me back to the days of my childhood, 
when I slept in a little cot under the eaves, and that sound 
was music to my ear. The Scotch mist that envelopes the 
mountains might make the traveller fancy himself in the 
Highlands ; and so he might, as he seeks out the little 
*' tarns " that have settled in the craters of extinct volcanoes, 
where not only wild deer break tlirough the tangled wojd of 
the leafy solitudes, but the tiger and the rJainoceros come to 
drink. Streams run down the mountain-sides, and springs 
ooze from mossy banks by the roadside, and tempe" tlie ail 
vfith their dripping coolness. What a place to res' ! FIoi^ 



356 NEARNESS TO AUSTEALIA. 

tliis perfect quiet must bring repose to the brave fellows from 
Acheen, and how sweet must sound this music of mountain 
streams to ears accustomed to the rude alarms of war ! 

That we were in a new quarter of the world — far awaj, 
not only from America and Europe, but even from Asia — 
we were reminded by the line of telegraph which kept us 
company over the mountains, and which here crosses the 
island on its way to Australia ! It goes down the coast to 
Bangaewangi, where it dives into the sea only to come up on 
the mainland of the great Southern Continent. Indeed we 
were strongly advised to extend our journey around the world 
bo Australia, which we could have reached in much less time 
than it had taken to come from Calcutta to Singapore. But 
we were more interested to ^i^it old countries and old nations 
than to set foot on a virgin continent, and to see colonies and 
cities, which, with all their growth, could only be a smaller 
edition of what we have so abundantly in the new States of 
America, 

We were now within a few miles of the Southern Ocean, 
the greatest of all the oceans that wrap their watery mantle 
around the globe. From the top of the Cede, a mountain 
which rose above us, one may look off upon an ocean broader 
than the Pacific — a sea without a shore — whose waters roll 
In an unbroken sweep to the Antarctic Pole. 

From all these seas and shores, and woods and waters, we 
now turned away, and with renewed delight in the varied 
landscapes, rode back over the mountains to Buitenzorg, and 
came down by rail to Batavia. 

Before I depart from this pleasant land of Java, I must 
gay a word about the Dutch and their position in South- 
eastern Asia, The Dutch have had possession of Java over 
250 years — since 1623 — without interruption, except from 
1811 to 1816, when Napoleon had taken Holland; and as 
England was using all her forces on land and sea to cripple 
the French empiro in different parts of the world, she sent i 



DUrCH POSSESSIONS IN THE EAST. 357 

fleet against Java. It yielded almost without opposition; 
indeed many of the Dutch regarded the surrender as simply 
placing the island under British protection, which saved it 
from the French. For five years it had an English Governs r^ 
Sir Stamford Raffles, who has written a large work on Java. 
After the fall of Napoleon, England restored Java to the 
Dutch, but kept Ceylon, Malacca, and the Cape of Good 
Hope. Thus the Dutch have lost some of their possession? 
in the East, and yet Holland is to-day the second colonial 
power in the world, being inferior only to England. The 
Dutch flag in the East waves not only over Java, but over 
almost the whole of the Malayan Archipelago, which, with the 
intervening waters, covers a portion of the earth's surface 
larger than all Europe. 

There are some peculiar physical features in this part of 
the world. The Malayan Archipelago lies midway between 
Asia and Australia, belonging to neither, and yet belonging 
to both. It is a very curious fact, brought out by Wallace, 
whose great work on " The Malayan Archipelago " is alto- 
gether the best on the subject, that this group of islands is in 
itself divided by a very narrow space between the two conti- 
nents, which it at once separates and unites. Each has its 
own distinct fauna and flora. The narrow Strait of Bali, only 
fifteen miles wide, which separates the two small islands of 
Bali and Lombok, separates two distinct animal and vegetable 
kingdoms, which are as unlike as are those of the United 
States and Brazil. One group belongs to Asia, the other to 
Australia. Sumatra is full of tigers ; in Borneo there is not 
one. Australia has no carnivora — no beasts that prey on 
flesh — but chiefly marsupials, such as kangaroos. 

There are a good many residents in the East who think 
Holland, in the management of her dependencies, has shown 
a better political economy than England ha? shown in India, 
An English writer (a Mr. Money), in a rolume ^^ntitled 
* How to Govern a Colony," has brought some features of 



558 FUTURE OF SOUTH-EASTERN ASIA. 

the Dutch policy to the notice of his cjuntrymen. I v?ill 
oaeution but one as an illustration. Half a century ago Java 
was very much run down. A native rebellion which lasted 
five years had paralyzed the industry of the country. To 
reanimate it, a couple of years after the rebellion had been 
subdued, in 1832, the home government began a very liberal 
system of stimulating production by making advances to 
planters, and guaranteeing them labor to cultivate their 
estates. The eifect was marvellous. By that wise system of 
helping those who had not means to help themselves, a new 
life was at once infused into all parts of the island. Out of 
that has grown the enormous production of coffee, sugar, and 
tobacco. Now Java not only pays all the expenses of her 
own government, (which India does not do, at least without 
contracting very heavy loans,) but builds her own railroads, 
and other roads and bridges, and supplies the drain of the 
Acheen war, and remits every year millions to the Hague to 
build railroads in Holland. 

Is it too much to believe that there is a great future in 
store for South Eastern Asia ? We talk about the future of 
America. But ours is not the only continent that offcra 
vast unoccupied wastes to the habitation of man. Be- 
sides Australia, there are these great islands nearer to Asia, 
which, from the overflow of India and China, may yet have 
a population that shall cultivate their waste places. I found 
in Burmah a great number of Bengalees and Madrasees, who 
had crossed the Bay of Bengal to seek a home in Farther In- 
dia ; while the Chinese, who form the population of Singa- 
pore, had crept up the coast. They are here in Java, in 
every seaport and in every large town in the interior, and 
thers is every reason to suppose that there will be a yet 
greater overflow of population in this direction. Sumatra 
and Borneo are not yet inhabited and cultivated like Java, 
but in their great extent they offer a magnificent seat foi 
future kingdoms or empires, which, Asiatic in populatioit, 



NATURE IN THE TROPICS. 35 £ 

may be governed by European laws, and moulded by Euro- 
pean civilization. 

One thing more before we cross the Equator — a word 
about nature and life in the tropics. I came to Java partly 
to see the tropical vegetation, of which we saw but little in 
India, as we were there in winter, which is at once the cold 
and the dry season, when vegetation withers, and the vast 
plains are desolate and dreary. Nature then holds herself 
In reserve, waiting till the rains come, when the earth will 
^loom again. But as I could not wait for the change of sea- 
sons, I must needs pass on to a land where the change had 
already come. We marked the transition as we came down 
the Bay of Bengal. There were signs of changing seasons 
and a changing nature. We were getting into the rainy 
t)elt. In the Straits of Malacca the air was hot and thun- 
derous, and we had frequent storms; the heavens were full 
of rain, and the earth was fresh with the joy of a newly- 
opened spring. But still we kept on till we crossed the 
Equator. Here in Java the rainy season was just over. It 
ends with the last of March, and we arrived at the beginning 
of April. For months the windows of heaven had been 
opened, the rains descended, and the floods came ; and lo ! 
the land was like the garden of the Lord. Here we had at 
last the tropical vegetation in its fullest glory. Nothing can 
exceed the prodigality and luxuriance of nature when a 
vertical sun beats down on fields and forests and jungles that 
have been drenched for months in rain. Vegetation of every 
kind springs up, as in the temperate zone it appears only 
when forced in heated conservatories (as in the Dake of 
Devonshire's gardens at Chatsworth), and the land waves 
with these luxuriant growths. In the forest creeping plants 
wind round the tall trunks, and vines hang in fe»: toons from 
tree to tree. 

Bui while the tropical forest presents such a wild luxu- 
riance of growth, I find no single trees of such stature as ] 



.'^60 NATURE OVERrOWERS MAN. 

have seen in other parts of the world. Excep t an occasioum 
broad- spreading banyan, I have seen nothing whicL, standing 
alone, equals in its solitary majesty the English oak or, the 
American elm. Perhaps there is a difference in this respect 
between countries in the same latitude in the Eastern and 
Western hemispheres. An English gentleman whom wc 
found here in charge of a great sugar plantation, who had 
spent some years in Rio Janeiro, told me that the trees of 
Java did not compare in majesty with those of Brazil. Nor 
is this superiority confined to South America. Probably 
no trees now standing on the earth equal the Big Trees of 
California. And besides these there are millions of lofty 
pines on the sides of the Sierra Nevada, which I ha f e seen 
nowhere equalled unless it be in the mighty cedars which 
line the great Tokaido of Japan. On the whole, I am a 
little inclined to boast that trees attain their greatest height 
and majesty in our Western hemisphere. 

But the glory of the tropics is in the universal life of 
nature, spreading through all her realms, stirring even under 
ground, and causing to spring forth new forms of vegetation, 
which coming up, as it were, out of the darkness of the 
grave, seek the sun and air, whereby all things live. 

Of coarse one cannot but consider what effect this marvel- 
lous production must have upon man. Too often it overpow- 
ers him, and makes him its slave, since he cannot be its 
master. This is the terror of the Tropics, as of the Polar 
regions, that nature is too strong for man to subdue her. 
What can he do — poor, puny creature — against its terrible 
forces ; against the heat of a vertical sun, that while if 
quickens the earth, often blasts the strength of man, subdu 
ing his energy, if not destroying his life ? What lan man do 
in the Arctic circle against the cold that locks up whole con- 
tinents in ice? Much as he boasts of his strength and of his 
all- conquering will, be is but a child in the loo of nature, 
tossed about by material forces as a leaf is b>6wn by thr 



EFFECT OF THE CLfMATE tJPON THE DUTCH. 361 

wind. The best region for human development and energj 
is the temperate zone, where nature stimulates, but dt-es not 
overpower, the energies of man, where the winter''s cold 
does not benumb him and make him sink into torpor, but 
only pricks him to exertion and makes him quicken his 
steps. 

The effect of this fervid climate shows itself not only upon 
natives, but upon Europeans. It induces a languor and in- 
disposition to effort. It has two of the hardest and toughest 
races in the world to work upon, in the English in India and 
the Dutch in Java, and yet it has its effect even upon them, 
and would have a still greater were it not that this foreign 
element is constantly changing, coming and going, whereby 
there is all the time a fresh infusion of European life. Here 
in Java the Dutch have been longer settled than the English 
in India ; they more often remain in the island, and the effect 
of course is more marked from generation to generation. The 
Dutchman is a placid, easy-going creature, even in his native 
Holland, except when roused by some great crisis, like a 
Spanish invasion, and then he fights with a courage which has 
given him a proud name in history. But ordinarily he is of 
a calm and even temper, and likes to sit quietly and survey 
his broad acres, and smoke his pipe in blissful content with 
himself and all the world beside. When he removes from 
Holland to the other side of the world, he has not changed 
his nature ; he is a Dutchman still, only with liis natural love 
of ease increased by life in the tropics. It is amusing to see 
how readily his Dutch nature falls in with the easy ways of 
jhis Eastern world. 

If I were to analyze existence, or material enjoyment in this 
part of the world, I should say that the two great elements 
in one's life, or at least in his comfort, are sleep and smoke. 
They smoke in Holland, and they have a better right to 
smoke in Java ; for here they but follow the course c f nature. 
Why should not man smoke, when even the earth itself re 



562 SMOKE AND SLEEP. 

spires through smoke and flame ? The mountains smoke, axul 
why not the Dutch r Only there is this difference : the 
volcanoes sometimes have a period of rest, but the Dutch 
never. Morning, noon, and night, before breakfast and after 
dinner, smoke, smoke, smoke ! It seems to be a Dutchman's 
ideal of happiness. I have been told of some who dropped 
to sleep with the cigar in their lips, and of one who required 
his servants to put his pipe between his teeth while he was 
yet sleeping, that he might wake up with the right taste in 
his mouth. It seemed to me that this must work injury to 
their health, but they think not. Perhaps there is something 
in the phlegmatic Dutch temperament that can stand this 
better than the more mercurial and excitable English or 
American. 

And then how they do Bleep ! Sleep is an institution in 
Java, and indeed everywhere in the tropics. The deep still- 
ness of the tropical noon seems to prescribe rest, for then 
mature itself sinks into repose. Scarcely a leaf moves in the 
forest — the birds cease their musical notes, and seek for rest 
under the shade of motionless palms. The sleep of the Dutch 
is like this stillness of nature. It is profound and absolute 
repose. For certain hours of the day no man is visible. I 
had a letter to the Resident of Solo, and went to call on him 
at two o'clock. He lived in a grand Government House, or 
^>alace ; but an air of somnolence pervaded the place, as if it 
were the Castle of Indolence. The very servant was asleep 
on the marble pavement, where it was his duty to keep watch ; 
and when I sent in my letter, he came back making a very 
significant gesture, leaning over his head to signify that hii 
master was asleep. At five o'clock I was more fortunate, but 
even then he was dressed with a lightness of costume more 
suitable for one who was about to enter his bath than to givs 
audience. 

There is a still graver question for the moralist to considei 
— the efieijt of these same physical influences upon humar 



M0N3T0NY OF PEKPETUAL SDMMER. 363 

character. No observer of men in different parts of the 
world can fail to see that different races have been modified 
by climate, not only in color and features, but in tempera- 
ment, in disposition, and in character. A hot climate make? 
hot blood. Burning passions do but reflect the torrid sun 
What the Spaniard is in Europe, the Malay is in Asia 
There is a deep philosophy in the question of Byron : 

**Kiiow ye the land where the cypress and myrtle 

Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, 
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, 
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime ? " 

But I must not wander into deep philosophy. 1 only say 
that great as is the charm of life in the tropics, it is not 
without alloy. In landing in Java it seemed as if we had 
touched the shores of some enchanted island, as if we had 
found the Garden of Paradise lying far off in these Southern 
seas. We had come to the land of perpetual spring and per- 
petual summer, where nature is always in bloom, and frost 
and snow and hail have fled away to the bleak and wintry 
North. But as we are obliged to go back to that North, we 
wish to be reconciled to it. We find that one may have too 
much even of Paradise. There is a monotony in perpetual 
summer. The only change of seasons here is from the dry 
season to the rainy season ; and the only difference between 
these, so far as we can see, is that in the dry season it 
rains, and in the rainy season it pours. W^e have been here 
in the dry season, and yet we have had frequent showers, 
with occasional thunderstorms. If we should stay here a 
year, w^e should weary of this unrelieved monotony of sun 
and rain. We should long for some more marked change of 
seasons, for the autumn leaves and the winter winds, and 
the gradual coming on of spring, and all those insensible gra 
dations of nature which make the glory of the full rounfl 
year. 



364 THE LOSS OF TWILIGHT. 

And what a loss should we find in the absence of twilight 
Java, being almost under the Equator, the days and night? 
are almost equal throughout the year ; there are no shori 
days and no long days. Day and night come on suddenly — 
not instantly, but in a few minutes the night breaks into tlif 
full glare of day, and the day as quickly darkens into night 
How we should miss the long summer twilight, which in our 
Northern latitudes lingers so softly and tenderly over the 
quiet earth. 

Remembering these things, we are reconciled to our lot in 
living in the temperate zone, and turn away even from the 
soft and easy life of the tropics, to find a keener delight in 
our rugged clime, and to welcome even the snow-drifts and 
the short winter days, since they bring the long winter even- 
ings, and the roaring winter fires ! 

We leave Java, therefore, not so much with regret that we 
can no longer sit under the palm groves, and indulge in the 
soft and easy life of the tropics, as that we part from friends. 
Our last night in Batavia they took us to a representation 
given by amateurs at the English Club, where it was very 
pleasant to see so many English faces in this distant part 
of the world, and to hear our own mother tongue. The next 
morning they rode down with us to the quay, and came off 
to the steamer, and did not leave us till it was ready to 
move ; and it was with a real sadness that we saw them over 
the ship's side, and watched their fluttering signals as they 
sailed back to the shore. These partings are the sore pain of 
travel. But the friendships remain, and are delightful in 
memory. A pleasure past is a pleasure still. Evan now ii 
gives us a warm feeling at the heart to think of those kind 
friends on the other side of the globe. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

UP THE CHINA SEAS — HONG KONG AND CANTON 

In Singapore, as in Batavia, the lines fell to us in pleasant 
places. An English merchant, Mr. James Graham, carried 
us off to his hospitable bungalow outside the town, where we 
passed four days. It stood on a hill, from, which we looked 
off on one side to the harbor, where were riding the ships o" 
all nations, and on the other to an undulating country, witl 
here and there an English residence embowered in trees. 
In this delightful retreat our hosts made us feel perfectly at 
home. We talked of England and America ; we romped 
with the children ; we played croquet on the lawn ; we re- 
ceived calls from the neighbors, and went out to " take tea" 
in the good old-fashioned way. We attended service, the 
Sunday before going to Java, in the Cathedral, and on our 
return, in the Scotch church ; so that around us, even at this 
extremity of Asia, were the faces and voices, the happy do- 
mestic life, and the religious worship, of dear old England. 

But just as we began to settle into this quiet life, the 
steamer was signalled from Ceylon which was to take us to 
China, and we had to part from our new friends. 

It had been in my plan to go from here to Siam. It is but 
three days' sail from Singapore up the Gulf to Bangkok ; but 
it is not so easy to get on from there. Could we have been 
Bure of a speedy passage to Saigon^ to connect with the French 
steamer, we should not have hesitated; but without this, we 
might be detained for a week or two, or be obliged to come 
back to Singaj)ore. Thus uncertain, we felt that i' was safe? 



366 HONG KONG. 

to take the steamer direct for Hong Kong, though it was t 
Bore disappointment to pass across the head of the Gulf ol 
Siam, knowing that we were so near the Land of the White 
Elephant, and leave it un visited. 

The China seas have a very bad name among sailors and 
travellers, as they are often swept by terrible cyclones; but 
we crossed at a favorable season, and escaped. The heat was 
great, and passengers sat about on deck in their easy cane 
chairs, as on the Red Sea ; but beyond that, we experienced 
uot so much discomfort as on the Mediterranean. On the 
sixth morning we saw in the distance an island, which, as 
we drew nearer, rose up so steeply and so high that it ap- 
peared almost like a mountain. This was the Peak of Hong 
Kong — a signal-station from which men, with their glasses, 
can look far out to sea, and as soon as one of the great steam- 
ers is descried on the horizon, a flag is run up and a gun 
tired to convey the news to the city below. Coming up be- 
hind the island, we swept around its point, and saw before us 
a large town, very picturesquely situated on the side of a hill, 
rising street above street, and overlooking a wide bay shut 
in by hills, so that it is sheltered from the storms that 
vex the China seas. The harbor was full of foreign ships, 
among which were many ships of war (as this is the ren- 
dezvous of the British jfleet in these waters), which were 
firing salutes; among those flying the flags of all nations was 
one modest representative of our country, of which we did 
not need to be ashamed — the Kearsarge, We afterwa-rda 
went on board of her, and saw and stroked with aftection, 
mingled with pride, the big gun that sunk the Alabama. 

Hong Kong, like Singapore, is an English colony, but with 
a Chinese population. You can hardly set foot on shore be- 
fore you are snapped up by a couple of lusty fellows, with 
Rtraw hats as large as umbrellas on their heads, and who, 
though in bare feet, stand up as straight as grenadiers, and 
as soon as you take youi seat in a chair, lift the bam''00 



CKOSSING TO CANTON. ^C? 

poles to their shoulders, and walk off with you on the double 
quick 

No country which we see for the first time is exactly as we 
supposed it to be. Somehow I had thought of China as a 
vast plain like India ; and behold ! the first view reveals a 
wild, mountainous coast. As we climb Yictoria Peak above 
Hong Kong, and look across to the mainland, we see only 
Darren hills — a prospect almost as desolate as that of the 
Arabian shores on the Red Sea. 

But what wonders lie beyond that Great Wall of moun- 
tains which guards this part of the coast of China ! One 
^'annot be in sight of such a country without an eager im- 
pulse to be in it, and after two or three days of rest we set 
out for Canton, which is only eight hours distant. Our 
boat was an American one, with an American captain, who 
took us into the wheel-house, and pointed out every spot of 
interest as we passed through the islands and entered the 
Canton river. Forty miles south is the old Portuguese port 
of Macao. At the mouth of the river are the Bogue Forts, 
which played such a part in the English war of 1841, but 
which were sadly battered, and now lie dismantled and un- 
garrisoned. Going by the stately Second Bar Pagoda, we 
next j)ass Whampoa, the limit to which foreign vessels could 
come before the Treaty Ports were opened. As we ascend 
the river, it is crowded with junks — strange craft, high at 
both ends, armed with old rusty cannon^ with which to beat 
off the pirates that infest these seas, and ornamented at the 
bow with huge round eyes, that stand out as if from the head 
of some sea-monster, some terrible dragon, which keeps 
watch over the deep. Amid such fantastic barks, with their 
Btrange crews, we steamed up to Canton. 

At the landing, a son of Dr. Happer, the American mis- 
sionary, came on board with a letter from his father inviting 
us to be his guests, and we accordingly took a native boat^ 
ftnd were rowed up the riv(jr. Our oarsmaf* was a woman^ 



368 CANTON, 

who, besides the trifle of rowing our boat up the stream, hao 
a baby strapped on her back ! Perhaps the weight helped 
her to keep her balance as she bent to the oar. But it wai 
certainly bringing things to a pretty fine point when human 
muscles were thus economized. This boat, well called iv 
Chinese a tan-ka or egg-house, was the home of the family. 
It sheltered under its little bamboo cover eight souls (as manj 
as Noah had in the Ark), who had no other habitation 
Here they ate and drank and slept ; here perhaps children 
were born and old men died. In Canton it is estimated that 
a hundred and fifty thousand people thus live in boats, lead- 
ing a kind of amphibious existence. 

Above the landing is the island of Shameen, a mile long, 
which is the foreign quarter, where are the Hongs, or Fac- 
tories, of the great tea-merchants, and where live the wealthy 
foreign residents. Rounding this island, we drew up to the 
quay, in front of Dr. Happer's door, where we found that 
welcome which is never wanting under the roof of an Amer- 
ican missionary. Dr. Happer has lived here thirty-two years, 
and was of course familiar with every part of Canton, and 
was an invaluable guide in the explorations of the next three 
or four days. 

When we were in Paris, we met Dr. Wells Williams, the 
well-known missionary, who had spent over forty years iD 
China, twelve of them in Peking, of which he said, thai 
apart from its being the capital, it had little to interest a 
stranger — at least not enough to repay the long journey to 
*"each it. He said it would take a month to go from Shang- 
hai to Tientsin, and then cross the country cramped up in 
carts to Peking, and visit the Great Wall, and return to 
Shanghai. Canton was not only much nearer, but far mere 
biteresting, and the best representative of a Chinese city in 
the Empire. 

The next morning we began our excursions, not wi^h 
horses and chariots, but with coolies and chairs. An I aglia^i 



EXCURSIONS m THE CITY. 36S 

gentleman and his wife, who had come with us from Singa- 
pore, joined us, making, with a son of Dr. Happer and the 
guide, a party of six, for whom eighteen bearers drew up 
before the door, forming quite a procession as we filed through 
the streets. The motion was not unpleasant, though they 
swung us along at a good round pace, shouting to the people 
to get out of the way, who forthwith parted right and left, 
as if some high mandarin were coming. The streets were nar- 
Yow and densely crowded. Through such a mass it required 
no small effort to force our way, which was effected only by 
our bearers keeping up a constant cry, like that of the gon- 
doliers in Venice, when turning a corner in the canals — a 
signal of warning to any approaching in the opposite direc- 
tion. I could but admire the good-nature of the people, 
who yielded so readily. If we were thus to push through a 
crowd in New York, and the policemen were to shout to the 
*' Bowery boys " to '* get out of the way," we might receive 
a " blessing " in reply that would not be at all agreeable. 
But the Chinamen took it as a matter of course, and turned 
aside respectfully to give us a passage, only staring mildly 
with their almond eyes, to see what great personages were 
these that came along looking so grand. 

Our way led through the longest street of the city, which 
bears the sounding name of the Street of Benevolence and 
Love. This is the Broadway of Canton, only it is not half 
as widj as Broadway. It is very narrow, like some of the 
old streets of Genoa, and paved, like them, with huge slabs 
of stone. On either side it is lined with shops, iato which 
we had a good opportunity to look as we brushed past them, 
for they stood wide open. They were of the smallest dimen- 
sions, most of them consisting of a single room, even when 
hung with beautiful embroideries. There may be little re- 
cesses behind, hidden interiors where they live, though ap 
parently we saw the whole family. In many shojr^ they were 
fcaking their meals in full sight of the passers-by There waf 



370 NAMES OF l-HE STREEl£> 

no variety of courses ; a bowl of rice in the centre of tht 
tablo was the universal dish (for rice is the staff of life in 
Asia, as bread is in America), garnished perchance with some 
" little pickle," in the shape of a bit of fish and soy, to serve 
as a sauce piquante to stimulate the flagging appetite. But 
apparently they needed no appetizer, for they plied their 
chop-sticks with unfailing assiduity. 

Our first day's ride was probably ten or twelve miles, and 
fcook us through such " heavenly streets " as we never knew 
before, and did not expect to walk in till we entered the 
gates of the New Jerusalem. Besides the Street of Benevo- 
lence and Love, which might be considered the great high- 
way of the Celestial City, there were streets which bore the 
enrapturing names of " Peace," " Bright Cloud," and " Lon- 
gevity ; " of '' Early-bestowed Ble-soiugs " and of '* Everlasting 
Love ; " of " One Hundred C tandsons " and (more ambitious 
still) of " One Thousand Grandsons ; " of " Five Happi- 
nesses " and of '' Refreshing Breezes ; " of *' Accumulated 
Blessings " and of " Ninefold Brightness." There was a 
" Dragon street," and others devoted to " The Ascending 
Dragon," "The Saluting Dragon," and "The Reposing 
Dragon ; " while other titles came probably a little nearer 
the plain fact, such as "The Market of Golden Profits." 
All the shops have little shrines near the door dedicated to 
Tsai Shin, or the God of Wealth, to whom the shopkeepers 
offer their prayers every day. I think I have heard of 
prayers ofiered to that divinity in other countries, and no 
one could doubt that these prayers at least were fervent and 
sincere. 

But names do not always designate realities, and though 
WQ passed through the street of a " Thousand Beatitudes " and 
that of a " Thousandfold Peace," we saw sorrow and misery 
enough before the day was done. 

One gets an idea of the extent of a city not only by tra- 
rersing its streets, but by ascending seme high point il th« 



GENERAL VIEW OF CANTON. 373 

vicinity that overlooks it. The best point for such a bird's* 
eye view is the Five-storied Pagoda, from which the eye 
ranges over a distance of many miles, including the city and 
the country around to the mountains in the distance, with 
the broad river in front, and the suburb on the other side. 
The appearance of Canfe )n is very different from that of a 
European city. It has no architectural magnificence. There 
are some fine houses of the rich merchants, bi ilt of brick, 
with spacious rooms and courts ; but there are no great 
palaces towering over the city — no domes like St. Paul's in 
London, or St. Peter's in Romo, nor even like the domes 
and minarets of Constantinople. The most imposing struc- 
ture in view is the new Koman Catholic Cathedral. Here 
and there a solitary pagoda rises above the vast sea of hu- 
man dwellings, which are generally of but one, seldom two 
stories in height, and built very much alike ; for there is 
the same monotony in the Chinese houses as in the figures 
and costumes of the Chinese themselves. Nor is this level 
surface relieved by any variety of color. The tiled roofs, 
with their dead color, but increase the sombre impression of 
the vast dull plain ; yet beneath such a pall is a great city, 
intersected by hundreds of streets, and occupied by a mil' 
lion of human beings. 

The first impression of a Chinese city is of its myriad, 
multitudinous life. There are populous cities in Europe, 
and crowded streets ; but here human beings swarTn, like 
birds in the air or fishes in the sea. The wonder is how 
they all li^ e ; but that is a mystery which I could not solve 
in London any more than here. There is one street a mile 
long, which has in it nothing but shoemakers. The people 
amused us very much by their strange appearance and dress, 
in both which China differs wholly from the Orietnt. A 
Chinaman is not at all like a Turk. He does not wear a 
turban, ncr even a long, flowing beard. His head is shaved 
above and below — face, chin, and skull — and inste? \l of th« 



372 STREET SCENES. 

patriarchal beard before him, he carries only a pigtail behind 
The women whom we met in the streets (at least those of 
any position, for only the common work- women let their feel 
grow) hobbled about on their little feet, which were like dolia' 
feet — a sight that was half ludicrous and half painful. 

But if we were amused at the Chinese, I dare say they 
were as much amused at us. The people of Canton ough< 
by this time to be familiar with white faces. But, strange to 
say, wherever we went we attracted a degree of attention 
which had never been accorded us before in any foreign city. 
Boys ran after us, shoutijig as they ran. If the chairs were 
set down in the street, as we stopped to see a sight, a crowd 
gathered in a moment. There was no rudeness, but mere 
curiosity. If we went into a temple, a tlirong collected 
about the doors, and looked in at tlie windows, and opened 
a passage for us as we came out, and followed us till we got 
into our chairs and disappeared down the street. The ladies 
of our party especially seemed to be objects of wonder. 
They did not hobble on the points of their toes, but stood 
erect, and walked with a firm step. Their free and inde- 
pendent air apparently inspired respect. The children 
seemed to hesitate between awe and terror. One little fel- 
low I remember, who dared to approach too near, and whom 
my niece cast her eye upon, thought that he was done for, 
and fled howling. I have no doubt all reported, when they 
went home, that they had seen some strange specimens of 
** foreign devils." 

But the Chinese are a highly civilized people. In some 
things, indeed, they are mere children, compared with Euro- 
peans ; but in others they are in advance of us, especially thosa 
arts which require great delicacy, such as the manufacture of 
Bome kinds of jewelry, exquisite trinkets in gold and silvei, 
in which Canton rivals Delhi and Lucknow, and in the finesi 
work in ivory and in precious woods ; also in those which 
require a degree of patience to be found nowhere except 



CHINESE TEMPLES. 373 

among Asiatics. For exam2)le, I saw a man carving an 
elephant's tusk, which would take him a whole year ! The 
Chinese are also exquisite workers in bronze, as well as in 
porcelain, in which they have such a conceded mastery that 
^j^ecimens of "old China" ornament every collection in 
Europe. Their silks are as rich and fine as any that are prO' 
duced from the looms of Lyons or Antwerj). This need not 
surprise us, for we must remember the great antiquity of 
China ; that the Chinese were a highly civilized people when 
our ancestors, the Britons, were barbarians. They had the 
art of printing and the art of gunpowder long before they were 
known in Europe. Chinese books are in some respects a 
model for ours now, not only in cheapness, but in their ex- 
treme lightness, being made of thin bamboo paper, so that a 
book weighs in the hand hardly more than a newspaper. 

Of course every stranger must make the round of temples 
and pagodas, of which there are enough to satisfy any num- 
ber of worshippers. There is a Temple of the Five Genii, 
and one of the Five Hundred Arhans, or scholars of Buddha. 
There is a Temple of Confucius, and a Temple of the Em- 
peror, where the mandarins go and pay to his Majesty and to 
the Sage an homage of divine adoration. I climbed up into 
his royal seat, and thought I was quite as fit an object of 
worship as he ! There is a Temple of Horrors, which out- 
does the " Chamber of Horrors " in Madame Tussaud's 
famous exhibition of wax- works in London. It is a repre- 
sentation of all the torments which are supposed to be en- 
dured by the damned, and reminds one of those frightful 
pictures painted in the Middle Ages in some Roman Catholic 
countries, in which heretics are seen in the midst of flames, 
tossed about by devils on pitchforks. But the Chinese soften 
the impression. To restore the balance of mind, terrified bj 
these frightful representations, there is a Temj^le of Lf iigevity, 
in which there is a figure of Buddha, such as the ancient 
Romans might have made of Bacchus or Silenus — a moua 



374 IDEA OF KITEIBUTION. 

tain of flesh, with fat eyes, laughing mouth, and enormoua 
paunch. Even the four Kings of Heaven, that rule over the 
four points of the compass — North, South, East, and West— - 
have much more of an earthly than a heavenly look. AU 
these figures are grotesque and hideous enough ; but to their 
credit be it said, they are not obscene, like the figures in the 
temples of India. Here we made the same observation as in 
Burmah, that Buddhism is a much cleaner and more decent 
religion than Hindooism. This is to its honor. '* Buddhism," 
says Williams, " is the least revolting and impure of all 
false religions." Its general character we have seen else- 
where. Its precepts enjoin self-denial and practical benevo- 
lence. It has no cruel or bloody rites, and nothing gross 
in its worship. Of its priests, some are learned men, but the 
mass are ignorant, yet sober and inoffensive. At least they 
are not a scandal to their faith, as are the priests of some 
forms of Christianity. That the Chinese are imbued with 
religious ideas is indicated in the very names of the streets 
already mentioned, whereby, though in a singular fashion, 
they commemorate and glorify certain attributes of character. 
The idea which seems most deep-rooted in their minds is 
that of retribution according to conduct. The maxim most 
frequent in their mouths is that good actions bring their own 
reward, and bad actions their own punishment. This idea 
was very pithily expressed by the famous hong-merchant, 
Howqua, in reply to an American sea-captain, who asked 
him his idea of future rewards and punishments, to which he 
replied in pigeon- English : " A man do good, he go to Joss ; 
he no do good, very much bamboo catchee he ! " 

But we will leave the temples with their grinning idols ; as 
we leave the restaurants, where lovers of dainty dishes are 
regaled with dogs and cats ; and the opium-shops, where the 
Chinese loll and smoke till they are stupefied by the horrid 
drug; for Canton has something more attractive. We founc 
ft very curious study in the Examination Hall, illustrating, as 



THE EXAMINATION HALL. 375 

it does, the Chinese manner of elevating m^n to office. We 
hear much in our country of '' civil service reform," which 
some innocently suppose to be a new discovery in political 
economy — an American invention. But the Chinese have 
had it for a thousand years. Here appointments to office are 
made as the result of a competitive examination ; and al- 
though there may be secret favoritism and bribery, yet the 
theory is one of perfect equality. In this respect China is 
the most absolute democracy in the world. There is no 
hereditary rank or order of nobility ; the lowest menial, if 
he has native talent, may raise himself by study and perse- 
verance to be Prime Minister of the Empire. 

In the eastern quarter of Canton is an enclosure of many 
acres, laid off in a manner which betokens some unusual pur- 
pose. The ground is divided by a succession of long, low 
buildings, not much better than horse-sheds around a New 
England meeting-house of the olden time. They run in 
parallel lines, like barracks for a camp, and are divided into 
narrow compartments. Once in three years this vast camp- 
ing-ground presents an extraordinary spectacle, for then are 
gathered in these courts, from all parts of the province, some 
ten thousand candidates, all of whom have previously passed 
a first examination, and received a degree, and now ap- 
pear to compete for the second. Some are young, and some 
are old, for there is no limit put upon age. As the candi- 
dates present themselves, each man is searched, to see that he 
has no books, or helps of any kind, concealed upon his per- 
son, and then put into a stall about three feet wide, just 
large enough to turn around in, and as bare as a prisoner's 
cell. There is a niche in the wall, in which a board can l»e 
placed for him to sit upon, and another niche to support a 
board that has to serve as breakfast-table and writing-tablej. 
This is the furniture of his room. Here he is shut in from 
all communication with the world, his food being passed to 
Uim through the door, as to a prisoner. Certain themes are 



376 CIVIL SERVICE IN CHINA. 

then submitted to him in writing, on which he is to furnisi 
written essays, intended generally, and perhaps always, to 
determine his knowledge of the Chinese classics. It is some- 
times said that these are frivolous questions, the answers to 
which afford no proof whatever of one's capacity for office ^ 
but it should be remembered that these classics are the wri- 
tings of Confucius, which are the political ethics of the coun- 
try, the very foundation of the government, without knowing 
which one is not qualified to take part in its administration. 

The candidate goes into his cell in the afternoon, and 
spends the night there, which gives him time for reflection, 
md all the next day and the next night, when he comes out, 
and after a few days is put in again for another trial of the 
same character ; and this is repeated a third time ; at the end 
of which he is released from solitary confinement, and his 
essays are submitted for examination. Of the ten thousand, 
only seventy-five can obtain a degree — not one in a hundred ! 
The nine thousand and nine hundred must go back disap- 
pointed, their only consolation being that after three years 
they can try again. Even the successful ones do not thereby 
get an office, but only the right to enter for a third competi- 
tion, which takes place at Peking, by which of course their 
ranks are thinned still more. The few who get through this 
threefold ordeal take a high place in the literary or learned 
class, from which all appointments to the public service are 
made. Here is the system of examination complete. No 
trial can be imagined more severe, and it ought to give the 
Chinese the best civil service in the world. 

May we not get a hint from this for our instruction 
in America, where some of our best men are making 
earnest efforts for civil service reform? If the candidates, 
who flock to Washington at the beginning of each adminis- 
tration, were to be put into cells, and fed on bread and water, 
it might check the rage for office, and the number jf appli 
cants might be diminished ; and if tliey were required to pasd 



ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. 377 

ftn examination, and to furnish written essays, showing at 
least some degree of knowledge of political affairs, we might 
have a more intelligent class of officials to fill consular posts 
in different parts of the world. 

But, unfortunately, it might be answered that examina- 
tions, be they ever so strict, do not change human nature, nor 
make men just or humane ; and that even the rigid system of 
China does not restrain rulers from corruption, nor protect 
the people from acts of oppression and cruelty. 

Three spots in Canton had for me the fascination of horror 
— the court, the prison, and the execution ground. I had 
heard terrible tales of the trial by torture — of men racked to 
extort the secrets of crime, and of the punishments which 
followed. These stories haunted me, and I hoped to find 
some features which would relieve the impression of so much 
horror. I wished to see for myself the administration of 
justice — to witness a trial in a Chinese court. A few years 
ago this would have been impossible ; foreigners were ex- 
cluded from the courts. But now they are open, and all can 
see who have the nerve to look on. Therefore, after we had 
made a long circuit through the streets of Canton, I directed 
the bearers to take us to the Yamun, the Hall of Justice. 
Leaving our chairs in the street, we passed through a large 
open court into a hall in the rear, where at that very mo- 
ment several trials were going on. 

The court-room was very plain. A couple of judges sat 
behind tables, before whom a number of prisoners were 
brought in. The mode of proceeding was very foreign to 
American or European ideas. There was neither jury nor 
witnesses. This simplified matters exceedingly. There is no 
trial by jury in China. While we haggle about impanelling 
juries and getting testimony, and thus trials drag on for 
weeks, in China no such obstacle is allowed to impede the 
rapid course of justice ; md what is more, there are no law- 
yers to perplex the case with their arguments, but the judge 



378 CRIMINALS BEFOEE THE JUDGE. 

has it all his own way. He is simply confronted Nvdth tht 
accused, and they have it all between them. 

While we stood here, a number of prisoners were brought 
in; some were carried in baskets (as they are borne to exe- 
cution), and dumped on the stone pavement like so many 
bushels of potatoes ; others were led in with chains around 
their necks. As each one's name was called, he came for- 
ward and fell on his knees before the judge, and lifted up his 
hands to beg for mercy. He was then told of the crime of 
which he was accused, and given opportunity if he had any- 
thing to say in his own defence. There was no apparent 
harshness or cruelty towards him, except that he was pre- 
sumed to be guilty, unless he could prove his innocence ; 
contrary to the English maxim of law, that a man is to be 
presumed innocent until he is proved guilty. In this, how- 
ever, the Chinese practice is not very different from that 
which exists at this day in so enlightened a country as 
i'rance. 

For example, two men were accused of being concerned to- 
gether in a burglary. As they were from another prefecture, 
where there is another dialect, they had to be examined 
through an interpreter. The judge wished to find out who 
were leagued with them, and therefore questioned them sep- 
arately. Each was brought in in a basket, chained and dou- 
bled up, so that he sat helplessly. No witness was examined, 
but the man himself was simply interrogated by the judge. 

In another case, two men were accused of robbery with 
violence — a capital offence, but by the Cliinese law nc man 
can be punished with death unless he confesses his crime ; 
hence every means is employed to lead a criminal to ac- 
knowledge his guilt. Of course in a case of life and death he 
will deny it as long as he can. But if he will not confess, 
the court proceeds to take stringent measures to mahe him 
confess, for which purpose these two men were now put to 
the torture. The mode of torti-re was this : There were two 



MEN PUT TO THE rOKTUBB. 379 

ifonnd pillars in the hall. Each man was on his knees, with 
his feet chained behind him, so that he could not stir. He 
was then placed with his back to one of these columns, and 
small cords were fastened around his thumbs and great toes, 
and drawn back tightly to the pillar behind. This soon pro- 
duced intense suffering. Their breasts heaved, the veins on 
their foreheads stood out like whipcords, and every feature 
betrayed the most excruciating agony. Ev^ery few minutes 
an officer of the court asked if they were ready to confess, 
and as often they answered, " No ; never would they confess 
that they had committed such a crime." They were told if 
they did not confess, they would be subjected to still greater 
torture. But they still held out, though every moment 
seemed an hour of pain. 

While these poor wretches were thus writhing in agony, I 
turned to the judge to see how he bore the spectacle of such 
suffering. He sat at his table quite unmoved ; yet he did 
not seem like a brutal man, but like a man of education, 
such as one might see on the bench in England or America. 
He seemed to look upon it as in the ordinary course of pro- 
ceedings, and a necessary stej) in the conviction of a criminal. 
He used no bravado, and offered no taunt or insult. But 
the cries of the sufferers did not move him, nor prevent his 
taking his accustomed ease. He sat fanning himself and 
smoking his pipe, as if he said he could stand it as long as 
they could. Of course he knew that, as their heads were at 
stake, they would deny their guilt till compelled to yield ; 
but he seemed to look upon it as simply a question of endur- 
ance, in which, if he kept on long enoughj there could be 
but one issue. 

But still the men did not give in, and I looked at them 
with amazement mingled with horror, to see what human 
nature could endure. The sight was too painful to witness 
more than a few moments, and I rushed away, leaving the 
men still hanging to the pillars of torture. I confess I felt f 



380 DEFENCE OF TOKTUKE 

relief when I went back the next day, to hear that they h&u 
not yielded, but held out unflinchingly to the last. 

Horrible as this seems, I have heard good men — men of 
humanity — argue in favor of torture, at least " when applied 
in a mild waj." They affirm that in China there can be no 
administration of justice without it. In a country where 
testimony is absolutely worthless — where as many men can 
be hired to swear falsely for ten cents apiece as you have 
money to buy — there is no possible way of arriving at the 
truth but by extorting it. No doubt it is a rough process, 
but it secures the result. As it happened, the English gen- 
lleman who accompanied us was a magistrate in India, and 
he confirmed the statement as to the difficulty, and in many 
cases the impossibility, of getting at the truth, because of the 
unfathomable deceit of the natives. Many cases came before 
him in which he was sure a witness was lying, but he was 
helpless to prove it, when a little gentle application of the 
thumbscrew, or even a good whipping, would have brought 
out the truth, which, for want of it, could not be dis- 
covered. 

To the objection that such methods may coerce the inno- 
cent as well as the guilty — that the pain may be so great 
that innocent men will confess crimes that they never com- 
mitted, rather than suffer tortures worse than death— the 
answer is, that as guilt makes men cowards, the guilty 
will give up, while the innocent hold out. But this is 
simply trusting to the trial by lot. It is the old ordeal by 
fire. A better answer is, that the court has beforehand 
strong presumptive evidence of the crime, and that a prisoner 
is not put to the torture until it has been well ascertained 
by testimony obtained elsewhere that he is a great ofiender. 
When it is thus determined that he is a robber or a mur- 
derer, who ought not to live, then this last step is taken tc 
compel him to acknowledge his guilt, and the justice of hi» 
condemnation. 



OTHER SCENES IN COURT. 381 

But there are cases in which a man may be wror-gfully ac- 
cused ; an enemy may bribe a witness to make a complaint 
against him, upon which he is arrested and cast intc 
prison. Then, unless he can bring some powerful influence 
to rescue him, his case is hopeless. He denies his guilt, and 
is put to the rack for an offence of which he is wholly inno- 
cent. Such cases, no doubt, occur ; and yet men who have 
lived here many years, such as Dr. Happer and Archdeacon 
Gray, tell me that they do not believe there is a country in 
the world where, on the whole, justice is more impartially 
administered than in China. 

I was so painfully interested in this matter, that I went 
oack to the Yamun the next day in company with Dr. Hap 
per, to watch the proceedings further. As before, a number 
of prisoners were brought in, with chains around their necks, 
each of whom, when called, fell down on his knees before the 
judge and begged for mercy. They were not answered 
harshly or roughly, but listened to with patience and atten- 
tion. Several whose cases were not capital, at once con- 
fessed their offence, and took the punishment. One young 
fellow, a mere overgrown boy of perhaps eighteen, was 
brought up, charged with disobedience to parents. He con- 
fessed his fault, and blubbered piteously for mercy, and was 
let off for this time with rather a mild punishment, which 
was to wear a chain with a heavy stone attached, which he 
was to drag about after him in the street before the prison, 
where he was exposed to the scorn of the people. The 
judge, however, warned him that if he repeated the disobedi- 
ence, and was arrested again, he would be liable to be pun^ 
ished with death ! Such is the rigor with which the laws 
of China enforce obedience to parents. 

A man accused of theft confessed it, and was sentenced to 
wear the cangue — a board about three feet square — aroui^d 
his neck for a certain time, perhaps several weeks, on whicb 
his name wa» painted in large characters, with the crime of 



382 A NOTED MALEFACTOR. 

which he was guilty, that all who saw him might know that 
he was a thief ! 

These were petty cases, such as might be disposed of iE 
any police court. But now appeared a greater offender. A 
man was led in with a chain around his neck, who had the 
reputation of being a noted malefactor. He was charged 
with both robbery and murder. The case had been pending 
a long time. The crime, or crimes, had been committed four 
years ago. The man had been brought up repeatedly, but as 
no amount of pressure could make him confess, he could not 
be executed. He was now to have another hearing. He 
knelt down on the hard stone floor, and heard the accusation, 
which he denied as he had done before, and loudly protested 
his innocence. The judge, who was a man of middle age, 
with a fine intellectual countenance, was in no haste to con- 
demn, but listened patiently. He was in a mild, persuasive 
mood, perhaps the more so because he was refreshing himself 
as a Chinaman likes to do. As he sat listening, he took 
several small cups of tea. A boy in attendance brought him 
also his pipe, filled with tobacco, which he put in his mouth, 
and took two or three pufis, when he handed it back ; and 
the boy cleaned it, filled it, and lighted it again. With such 
support to his physical weakness, who could not listen 
patiently to a man who was on his knees before him plead- 
ing for his life ? But the case was a very bad one. It had 
been referred back to the village in which the man was 
born, and the " elders," who form the local government in 
every petty commune in China, had inquired into the facts, 
and reported that he was a notorious offender, accused of no 
less than seven crimes — five robberies, one murder, and one 
maiming. This was a pretty strong indictment. But the 
man protested that he had been made the victim of a con- 
spiracy to destroy him. The judge replied that it might be 
fchat he should be wrongfully accused by one enemy, but i1 
was hardly possible that a hundred people of liis nati\'e vU 



THE PKISON. 383 

lage should combine to accuse him falsely. Their written 
report was read by the clerk, who then held it up before the 
man, that he might see it in white and black. Still he 
denied as before, and the judge, instead of putting him to 
ihe torture, simply remanded him to prison for further ex 
amination. In all these cases there was no eagerness to con 
vict or to sentence the accused. They were listened to with 
patience, and apparently all proper force was allowed to what 
they had to say in their own defence. 

This relieves a good deal the apparent severity of the 
Chinese code. It does not condemn without hearing. But, 
on the other hand, it does not cover up with fine phrases or 
foolish sentiment the terrible reality of crime. It believes 
in crime as an awful fact in human society, and in punish 
ment as a repressive force that must be applied to keep 
society from destruction. 

Next to the Yamun is the prison, in which are confined 
those charged with capital ofiences. We were admitted by 
paying a small fee to the keepers, and were at once sur- 
rounded by forty or fifty wretched objects, some of whom 
had been subjected to torture, and who held up their limbs 
which had been racked, and showed their bodies all covered 
with wounds, as an appeal to pity. We gave them some 
money to buy tobacco, as that is the solace which they crave 
next to opium, and hurried away. 

But there is a place more terrible than the prison ; it is 
the execution-ground. Outside the walls of Canton, be- 
tween the city gate and the river, is a spot which may w^el] 
be called Golgotha, the place of a skull. It is simply a dirty 
vacant lot, partly covered with earthenware pots and paxis, a 
few rods long, on one side of which is a dead wall ; but 
within this narrow space has been shed more blood than on 
any other spot of the earth's surface. Here those sentenced 
to death are beheaded. Every few days a gloomy procession 
files into the lane, and the condemned are ranged against the 



^'584 THE EXECUTION GROUND. 

wall on thei) knees, when an assistant pills up i tiei r pinioned 
arms from behind, which forces their heads forward, and the 
executioner coming to one after another, cleaves the neck with 
a blow. A number of skulls were scattered about — of those 
whose bodies had been removed, but whose heads were left 
unburied. In the lane is the house of the executioner — o 
thick, short-set man, in a greasy frock, looking like a 
butcher fresh from the shambles. Though a coarse, ugly 
fellow, he did not look, as one might suppose, like a monstei 
of cruelty, but was simply a dull, stolid creature, who under- 
took this as he would any other kind of business, and cut off 
human heads with as little feeling as he would those of 
so many sheep. He picks up a little money by exhibiting 
himself and his weapon of death. He brought out his sword 
to show it to us. It was short and heavy, like a butcher's 
cleaver. I took it in my hand, and felt of the blade. It 
was dull, and rusted with stains of blood. He apologized 
for its appearance, but explained that it had not been used 
recently, and added that whenever it was needed for service, 
he sharpened it. I asked him how many heads he had cut 
off. He did not know — had not kept count — but supposed 
some hundreds. Sometimes there were " two or three tens " 
— that is, twenty or thirty — at once. Rev. Mr. Preston 
told me he had seen forty cut off in one morning. Dr. 
Williams had such a horror of blood that he could never be 
present at an execution, but he one day saw nearly two 
hundred headless trunks lying here, with their heads, which 
had just been severed from the bodies, scattered over the 
ground. Mr. Preston had seen heads piled up six feet high 
It ought to be said, however, that in ordinstry times no 
criminal convicted of a capital offence can be executed any- 
where in the province (which is a district of nearly eighty 
thousand square miles, with twenty millions of inhabitants) 
except in Canton, and with the cognizance of the governor. 
The carnival of blood was d iring the Taiping rebellion ir 



A CARNIVAL OF BLOOD, SSt 

1856* That rebellion invaded this province ; it had posses- 
sion of Whampoa, and even endangered Canton. When h 
was suppressed, it was stamped out in blood. There were 
executions by wholesale. All who had taken part in it were 
Bentenced to death, and as the insurgents were numbered by 
tens of thousands, the work went on for days and weeks and 
months. The stream of blood never ceased to flow. The 
rebels were brought up the river in boat-loads. The magis- 
trates in the villages of the province were supposed to have 
made an examination. It was enough that they were found 
with arms in their hands. There were no prisons which 
could hold such an army, and the only way to deal with them 
was to execute them. Accordingly every day a detachment 
was marched out to the execution ground, where forty or 
fifty men would be standing with coffins, to receive and carry 
off the bodies. They were taken out of the city by a certain 
gate, and here Dr. Williams engaged a man to count them as 
they passed, and thus he kept the fearful roll of the dead ; 
and comparing it with the published lists he found the num- 
ber executed in fourteen months to be eighty-one thousand ! 
An Aceldama indeed ! It is not, then, too much to say that 
taking the years together, within this narrow ground blood 
enough has been shed to float the Great Eastern. 

But decapitation is a simple business compared with 
that which the executioner has sometimes to perform. 1 
observed standing against the wall some half a dozen ruds 
crosses, made of bamboo, which reminded me that death is 
sometimes inflicted by crucifixion. This mode of punish- 
ment is reserved for the worst malefactors. They are not 
nailed to the cross to die a lingering death, but lashed tc 
it by ropes, and then slowly strangled or cut to pieces. 
The executioner explained coolly how he first cut out an eye 
or sliced off a piece of the cheek or the breast, and so pro 
(jeeded deliberately, till with one tremendous stroke tl '^ bodj 
was cleft in twain. 
17 



386 CANTON WELL GOVERNED. 

Til US Chinese law illustrates its idea of punishment, whici 
is to inflict it with tremendous rigor. It not onlj holds tc 
capital punishment, but sometimes makes a man in dying 
suifer a thousa.nd deaths. A gentleman at Fuhchau told me 
that he had seen a criminal starved to death. A man who 
had robbed a woman, using violence, was put into a cage in 
a public place, with his head out of a hole, exposed to the 
8un, and his body extended, and there left to die by inches. 
The foreign community were horror-struck ; the consuls 
protested against it, but in vain. He lingered four days 
before death came to put an end to his agony. There were 
■ibout twenty so punished at Canton in 1843, for incen- 
liarism. 

We shudder at these harrowing tales of "man's inhuman- 
ity to man." But we must not take the pictures of these 
terrible scenes, as if they were things which stare in the 
eyes of all beholders, or which give the fairest impression 
of Chinese law ; as if this were a country in which there 
i& nothing but suffering and crime. On the contrary, it is 
pre-eminently a land of peace and order. The Chinese are a 
law-abiding people. Because a few hundred bad men are 
found in a city of a million inhabitants, and punished with 
severity, we must not suppose that this is a lawless commu- 
riity. Those who would charge this, may at least be called 
on to point out a better-governed city in Europe. 

This fearful Draconian code can at least claim that it is 
successful in suppressing crime. The law is a terror to evil- 
doers. The proof of this is that order is so well preserved. 
This great city of Canton is as quiet, and life and property 
are as safe, as in London or New York. Yet it is done with 
no display of force. There is no obtrusion of the police ii 
the military, as in Paris or Vienna. The gates of the city 
are shut at night, and the Tartar soldiers make their rounds, 
bu* the armed hand is not always held up before the public 
eye. The Chinese Government has learned to make its an 



EXAMPLE OF INDUSTKT AND PEACE. 38^ 

thoritj respected without the constant display of railitarj 
power. 

The Chinese are the most industrious people on the face 
of the earth, for only by constant and universal industry can 
a population of four hundred millions live. When such 
masses of human beings are crowded together, the strug- 
gle for existence is so great, that it is only by keeping the 
millions of hands busy that food can be obtained for the 
millions of mouths. The same necessity enforces peace with 
each other, and therefore from necessity, as well as from 
moral considerations, this has been the policy of China from 
the beginning. Its whole political economy, taught long 
since by Confucius, is contained in two words — Industry and 
Peace. By an adherence to these simple principles, the Em- 
pire has held together for thousands of years, while every 
other nation has gone to pieces. China has never been an 
aggressive nation, given to wars of conquest. It has indeed 
attempted to subdue the tribes of Central Asia, and holds a 
weak sway over Turkistan and Thibet ; while Corea and Loo- 
choo and Annam still acknowledge a kind of fealty, now 
long since repudiated by Burmah and Siam. But in almost 
all cases it has " stooped to conquer," and been satisfied with 
a sort of tribute, instead of attempting roughly to enforce 
its authority, which would lead to perpetual wars. Thus has 
China followed the lesson of Confucius, furnishing the moyt 
stupendous example on the face of the earth of the advan- 
tage to nations of industry and peace. 

The reason for this general respect and obedience to la\¥ 
may be found in another fact, which is to the immortal honor 
of the Chinese. It is the respect and obedience to parents. 
In China the family is the foundation of the state ; and the 
very first law of society, as well as of religion, is : " Honor 
thy father and mother." In no country in the world is this 
law so universally obeyed. The preservation of China amid 
the wreck of other kingdoms is largely due to its respect tc 



588 RESPECT FOR PARENTS. 

the Fifth Commandment, which has proved literally " a com 
mandment with promise ; " — the promise, " that thy days maj 
be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee,'' 
having been fulfilled in the preservation of this country from 
age to age. 

As a consequence of this respect to parents, which im- 
poses an authority over children, and binds them together, the 
family feeling in China is very strong. This, however noble 
in itself, has some evil effects, as it often separates the peo- 
ple of a town or village by feuds and divisions, which are as 
distinct, and as jealous and hostile, as the old Highland clans 
in Scotland. This interferes with the administration of jus- 
tice. If a crime is committed, all of one's clan are in league 
to screen and protect the offender, while the rival clan is as 
eager to pursue and destroy him. Woe to the man who is 
accused, and who has no friend ! But the disposition to 
stand by each other manifests itself in many acts of mutual 
helpfulness, of devotion and personal sacrifice. 

Carrying out the same idea, the nation is only a larger 
family, and the government a patriarchal despotism. There 
is no representative government, no Congress or Parliament ; 
and yet there is a kind of local government, like that of our 
New England towns. Every village is governed by " elders," 
who are responsible for its police, who look after rascals, and 
who also aid in assessing the taxes for the local and general 
governments. By this union of a great central power with 
local administration of local affairs, the government has man- 
aged to hold together hundreds of millions of human beings, 
and make its authority respected over a large part of Asia. 

This family feeling moulds even the religion of China, 
which takes the form of a worship of ancestors. Those who 
iiave given them existence are not lost when they have ceased 
to breathe. They are still the links of being by which, acd 
through which, thfs present living world came from the hand 
of the Creator, and are to be reverenced with a devotion next 



EELATIONS TO OTHER COUNTEIES. 389 

to that felt for the Author of being himself. Tlieii memorj 
is still cherished. Every household has its objects of devo 
tion ; every dwelling has its shrine sacred to the memory ol 
the dead ; and no temple or pagoda is more truly holy ground 
than the cemeteries, often laid out on hill-sides, where reposes 
the dust of former generations. To these they make fre- 
quent pilgrimages. Every year the Emperor of China goes 
in state to visit the tombs of his ancestors. The poor emi- 
grant who leaves for America or Australia, gives a part of 
his earnings, so that, in case of death, his body shall be brought 
back to China to sleep in the soil that contains the dust of 
his ancestors. Thus the living are joined to the dead; and 
those who have vanished from the earth, from the silent hilla 
where they sleep, still rule the most populous kingdom of 
the world. 

One cannot leave China without a word in regard to its 
relations with other countries. In this respect a great 
change has taken place within this generation. The old ex- 
clusiveness is broken down. This has come by war, and war 
which had not always a justifiable origin, however good may 
have been itsefiects. The opium war in 1841 is not a thing 
to be remembered by England with pride. The cause of that 
war was an attempt by the Chinese government in 1839 to 
prevent the English importation of opium. Never did a 
government make a more determined effort to remove a 
terrible curse that was destroying its population. Seeing the 
3vil in all its enormity, it roused itself like a strong man to 
shake it off. It imposed heavy penalties on the use of opium, 
even going so far as to put some to death. But what could it 
do so long as foreigners were selling opium in Canton, right 
before its eyes ? It resolved to break up the trade, to stop the 
Importation. As a last resort, it drew a cordon around the 
factories of the foreign merchants, and brought them to 
terms by a truly Eastern strategy. It did not attack them, 
qor touch a hair of their heads ; but it assumed that it had 



390 THE OPIUM WAR. 

at. least fclie right to exercise its authority over its own people, 
by forbidding them to have any intercourse with foreigners. 
Immediately every Chinese servant left them. No mar 
could be had, for love or money, to render them any servicej 
or even to sell them food. Thus they were virtually pris- 
oners. This state of siege lasted about six weeks. At the 
end of that time the British merchants surrendered all the 
opium, at the order of their consular chief, Charles Elliot, for 
him to hand it over to the Chinese; it amounted to 20,285 
chests (nearly three million pounds in weight), mostly on 
board ship at the time. The Chinese received it at the 
^nouth of the river, near the Bogu-^ Forts, and there destroyed 
it, by throwing it overboard, as our fathers destroyed the 
tea in Boston harbor. To make sure work of it, lest it 
should be recovered and used, they broke open the chests 
and mixed it thoroughly with salt water. As it dissolved in 
the sea, it killed great quantities of fish, but that opium at 
least never killed any Chinamen. 

This brought on war. Much has been said of other 
causes, but no one familiar with affairs in the East doubts 
that the controlling motive was a desire to force upon China 
the trade in opium which is one chief source of the revenue 
of India. 

The war lasted two years, and ended in a complete victory 
for the foreigners. The Bogue Forts were bombarded, and 
foreign ships forced their way up the river. Canton was 
ransomed just as it was to have been attacked, but Amoy, 
Ningpo, Shanghai, and Chinkiang were assaulted and cap- 
tured. The war was finally terminated in 1842 by a treaty, 
by the terms of which China paid to England six millions of 
dollars for the opium which had been destroyed, and opened 
five ports to foreign trade. This, though a gain to European 
and Indian commerce, was a heavy blow to Canton, which^ 
instead of being the only open port, was but one of five 
The trade, which before had been concentrated here, no\r 



BNGLAND PRESSING CHINA TO THE WALL. 391 

Spread along the coast to Amoy, FuhchaUj NiLgpo, anc 
Shanghai. 

But the Ruler of Nations brings good out of evil. Wrong 
as was the motive of the opium war, it cannot be doubted 
that sooner or later war must have come from the attitude 
of China toward European nations. For ages it had main- 
tained a policy of exclusiveness. The rest of the world were 
*' outside barbarians."' It repelled their advances, not onl} 
with firmness, but almost with insult. While keeping thia 
attitude of resistance, as foreign commerce was continually 
knocking at its doors, a collision was inevitable. Recogniz- 
ing this, we cannot but regret that it should hL/e occurred 
for a cause in which China was in the right, and England in 
the wrong. 

Tn the wars of England and France with China, Europe 
has fought with Asia, and has gotten the victory. Will it 
be content with what it has gained, or will it press still 
further, and force China to the wall ? This is the question 
which I heard asked everywhere in Eastern Asia. The 
English merchants find their interests thwarted by the obsti- 
nate conservatism of the Chinese, and would be glad of an 
opportunity for a naval or military demonstration — an occa- 
sion whicl] the Chinese are very careful not to give. There 
is an English fleet at Hong Kong, a few hours' sail from 
Canton. The admiral who was to take command came out 
with us on the steamer from Singapore. He was a gallant 
seaman, and seemed like a man who would not willingly do 
injustice; and yet I think his English blood would rise at 
the prospect of glory, if he were to receive an order from 
London to transfer his fleet to the Canton River, and lay it 
abreast of the city, or to force his way up the Pei-ho. The 
English merchants would hail such an appearance in tht-se 
waters. Not content with the fifteen ports which they have 
now, they want the whole of China opened to -.rade. Bui 
the Chinese think they have got enough of i' and to anj 



392 FRIENDLY ATTITUDE OF AMERICA. 

further invasion oppose a quiet but steady resistance. Th< 
English are impatient. They want to force an entrance, and 
to introduce not only the goods of Manchester, but all the 
modern improvements — to have railroads all over China, as 
in India, and steamers on all the rivers ; and they think it 
very unreasonable that the Chinese object. But -^.here is 
another side to this question. Such changes would disturt 
the whole internal commerce of China. They would throw 
out of employment, not thousands nor tens of thousands, but 
millions, who would perish in such an economical and indus- 
trial revolution as surely as by the waters of a deluge. An 
English missionary at Canton told me that it would not be 
possible to make any sudden changes, such as would be in- 
volved in the general introduction of railroads, or of labor- 
saving machines in place of the labor of human hands, with- 
out inflicting immense suffering. There are millions of 
people who now keep their heads just above water, and that 
by standing on their toes and stretching their necks, who 
would be drowned if it should rise an inch higher. The 
least agitation of the waters, and they would be submerged. 
Can we wonder that they hesitate to be sacrificed, and beg 
their government to move slo"s^ly ? 

America has had no part in the wars with China, although 
it is said that in the attack on the forts at the mouth of the 
Pei-ho, when the English ships were hard pressed, American 
sailors went on board of one of them, and volunteered to 
serve at the guns, whether from pure love of the excitement 
of battle, or because they felt, as Commodore Tatnall ex- 
pressed it, that " blood was thicker than water," is not re- 
corded.* American sailors and soldiers will never be wanting 



* As this incident has excited a great deal of interest, I am happy 
fco give it as it occurred from an eye-witness. One who was on board 
of Commodore Tatuall's ship writes : 

'' I was present at the battle in the Pei-ho in 1859, and know al 



AMERICAN MISSIONARIES. 393 

in any cause which concerns their country's interest and 
honor. But hitherto it has been our good fortune to come 
into no armed collision with the Chinese, and hence the Amer- 
ican name is in favor along the coast. Our country is rep- 
resented, not so much by ships of war as by merchants and 
missionaries. The latter, though few in number, by their 
wisdom as well as zeal, have done much to conciliate favor 
and command respect. They are not meddlers nor mischief- 
makers. They do not belong to the nation that has forced 
opium upon China, though often obliged to hear the taunl 
that is hurled against the whole of the English-speaking race. 
In their own quiet spheres, they have labored to diffuse 
knowledge and to exhibit practical Christianity. They have 
opened schools and hospitals, as well as churches. In Canton, 
a generation ago, Dr. Peter Parker opened a hospital, which 
is still continued, and which receives about nine hundred 



the particulars. Admhal Hope having been wounded, was urged to 
bring up the marines before sunset, and sent his aid down to take 
them off the three junks, where they were waiting at the mouth of 
the river. The aid came on board the " Toeywan " to see Commo- 
dore Tatnall, tell him the progress of the battle, and what he had 
been sent down for, adding that, as the tide was running out, it 
would be hard work getting up again. As he went on, Tatnall began 
to get restless, and turning to me (I sat next), said : ' Blood is thicker 
than water; I don't care if they do take away my commission.' 
Then turning to his own flag-lieutenant at the other end of the table, 
he said aloud : ' Get up steam ; ' and everything was ready for a start 
in double-quick time. When all was prepared, the launches, fuU of 
marines, were towed into action by the " Toeywan" ; and casting 
them off, the Commodore left in his barge to go on board the British 
flag-ship, to see the wounded Admiral. On the way his barge was 
hit, his coxswain killed, and the rest just managed to get on board 
the '• Lee " before their boat sunk, owing their lives probably tc 
his presence of mind. It was only the men in this boat's crew who 
helped to work the British guns. I suppose Tatnall never meant hit 
words to be repeated, but Hope's aid overheard them, and thuF (pe 
mortalized them." 
17* 



394 AMERICAN MISSIONARIES. 

every year into its wards, besides some fiftee:i inousand wht 
are treated at the doors. For twenty years it was in charg€ 
of Dr. Kerr, who nearly wore himself out in his duties ; and 
is now succeeded by Dr. Carrow, a young physician who left 
a good practice in Jersey City to devote himself to this work. 
Hundreds undergo operation for the stone — a disease quite 
common in the South, but which Chinese surgery is incom- 
petent to treat — and who are here rescued from a lingering 
death. That is the way American Christianity should be 
represented in China. In Calcutta I saw the great opium 
ships bound for Hong Kong. Let England have a monopoly 
»f that trade, but let America come to China with healing 
In one hand and the Gospel in the other. 

Nor is this all which American missionaries have done. 
They have rendered a service — not yet noticed as it should 
be —to literature, and in preparing the way for the intercourse 
of China with other nations. An American missionary, Dr. 
Martin, is President of the University at Peking, established 
by the government. Dr. S. Wells Williams, in the more 
than forty years of his residence in China, has prepared a 
Chinese-English Dictionary, which I heard spoken of every- 
where in the East as the best in existence. In other ways 
his knowledge of the language and the people has been of 
service both to China and to America, during his twenty-one 
years' connection with the Legation. And if American 
diplomacy has succeeded in gaining many substantial advan- 
tages for our country, while it has skilfully avoided wound- 
ing the susceptibilities of the Chinese, the success is due in 
no small degree to this modest American missionary. 

Do Quincey said if he were to live in China, he should go 
mad. No wonder The free English spirit could not be so 
confined. There is something in this enormous population, 
weighed down with the conseivatism of ages, that oppresses 
the intellect. It is a forced stagnation. China is a bound 
less and a motionless ocean. Its own people may not feel it. 



THE deaD sea stikrino. 39i 

but one accustomed to the free life of Europe looks upon it 
as a vast Dead Sea, in whose leaden waters nothing can live. 
But even this Dead Sea is beginning to stir with life, 
rhere is a heaving, as when the Polar Ocean breaks up, and 
the liberated waves sweep far and wide — 

*' Swinging low with sullen roar." 

Such is the sound which is beginning to be heard on all the 
shores of Asia. Since foreigners have begun to come into 
China, the Chinese go abroad more than ever before. There 
is developed a new spirit of emigration. Not only do they 
come to California, but go to Australia, and to all the islands 
of Southern Asia. They are the most enterprising as well as 
the most industrious of emigrants. They have an extraor- 
dinary aptitude for commerce. They are in the East what 
the Jews are in other parts of the world — the money-changers, 
the mercantile class, the petty traders ; and wherever they 
come, they are sure to " pick up" and to *'go ahead." Who 
can put bounds to such a race, that not content with a quar- 
ter of Asia, overflows so much of the remaining parts of the 
Eastern hemisphere ? 

On our Pacific Coast the Chinese have appeared as yet only 
as laborers and servants, or as attempting the humblest in- 
dustries. Their reception has not been such as we can regard 
with satisfaction and pride. Poor John Chinaman ! Patient 
toiler on the railroad or in the mine, yet doomed to be kicked 
about in the land whose prosperity he has done so much to 
promote. There is something very touching in his love for 
his native country — a love so strong that he desires even in 
death to be carried back to be buried in the land which gave 
him birth. Some return living, only to tell of a treatment 
in strange contrast with that which our countrymeii have re 
ceived in China, as well as in violation of the solemn obliga 
fcions of treaties. We cannot think of this cruel f^rsecution 
but with indignation at our couLitry's shame. 



596 "the moon shines bright amid the fibs." 

No one can visit China without becoming interested in the 
country and its people. There is much that is good in thf 
Chinese, in their patient industry, and in their strong do 
mestic feeling. Who can but respect a people that honoi 
their fathers and mothers in a way to furnish an example tc 
the whole Christian world? who indeed exaggerate their 
reverence to such a degree that they even worship their an- 
cestors ? The mass of the people are miserably poor, but 
they do not murmur at their lot. They take it patiently, and 
even cheerfully ; for they see in it a mixture of dark and 
bright. In their own beautiful and poetical saying ; " The 
moon shines bright amid the firs." May it not only shine 
through the gloom of deep forests, but rise higher and higher 
till it casts a flood of light over the whole Eastern sky 1 



CHAPTER XXV. 

THREE WEEKS IN JAPAN. 

We left Hong Kong on the 15tli of May, just one yeai 
from the day that we sailed from New York on our journey 
around the world. As we completed these twelve months, 
we embarked on our twelfth voyage. After being so long 
on foreign ships — English and French and Dutch : Austrian 
Lloyds and Messagerics Maritimes — it was pleasant to be at 
last on one that bore the flag of our country, and bore it so 
proudly as " The City of Peking." As we stepped on her 
deck, and looked up at the stars above us, we felt that we 
were almost on the soil of our country. As we were now 
approaching America, though still over six thousand miles 
away, and nearly ten thousand from New York, we thought 
it was time to telegraph that we were coming, but found that 
"the longest way round was the nearest way home." The 
direct cable across the Bay of Bengal, from Penang to Ma- 
dras, was broken, and the message had to go by Siberia. It 
seemed indeed a long, long way, but the lightning regards 
neither space nor time. Swift as thought the message flew 
up the coast of China to Siberia, and then across the whole 
breadth of two continents, Asia and Europe, and dived under 
the Atlantic, to come up on the shores of America. 

The harbor of Hong Kong was gay with ships decorated 
with flags, and the British fleet was still firing salutes, which 
seemed to be its daily pastime, as the City of Peking began 
to move. With a grand sweep she circled round the bay, 
and then running swiftly into a winding passage among 



898 VOYAGE TO JAPAN. 

islands, througli which is the entrance to the harbor, steamed 
out on the broad Pacific. 

We had intended to go to Shanghai, and through the In- 
land Sea of Japan, but we sacrificed even such a pleasure 
(or rather left it till the next time) to take advantage of this 
noble ship, that was bound direct for Yokohama. Our course 
took us through the Channel of Formosa, in full sight of the 
island, which has had an unenviable notoriety from the treat- 
ment of the crews of ships wrecked on its inhospitable coast. 
Leaving it far behind, in six days we were running along the 
shores of Japan, and might have seen the snowy head of 
Fusiyama, had it not been wrapped in clouds. The next 
morning we left behind the long roll of the Pacific, and 
entered the Bay of Yedo — a gulf fifty miles deep, whose 
clear, sparkling waters shone in the sunlight. Fishing-boats 
were skimming the tranquil surface. The Japanese are born 
to the sea. All around the coast they live upon it, and are 
said to derive from it one-third of their subsistence. The 
shores, sloping from the water's edge, are sprinkled with 
Japanese villages. Some thirty miles from the sea we pass 
Mississippi Bay, so called from the flag-ship of Commodore 
Perry, which lay here with his fleet while he was conducting 
the negotiations for the opening of Japan ; the headland 
above it bears the name of Treaty Point. Bounding this 
point, we see before us in the distance a forest of shipping, 
and soon cast anchor in the harbor of Yokohama. 

Yokohama has a pleasant look from the sea, an impression 
increased as we are taken ofl" in a boat, and landed on the 
quay — a sea wall, which keeps out the waves, and furnishes 
a broad terrace for the front of the town. Here is a wide 
street called " The Bund," on which stand the principal 
hotels. From our rooms we look out directly on the harbor, 
Among the steamers from foreign ports, are a number of 
ships of war, among which is the Tennessee, the flagship of 
our Asiatic squadron, bearing the broad pennant of Admira' 



YOKOHAMA. 31)9 

ReyDolils, whom we had known in America, and indeed had 
bidden good-by at our own door, as we stepped into the carriage 
to drive to the steamer. We parted, hoping to meet in 
Asia, a wish which was now fulfilled. He was very cour 
teous to us during our stay, sending his boat to bring us on 
board, and coming often with his excellent wife to see us on 
shore. It gave us a pleasant feeling of nearness to home, to 
have a great ship full of our countrymen close at hand. 

In the rear of the town the hill which overlooks the har 
bor, bears the foreign name of " The Bluif." Here is quite 
an American colony, including several missionary families, 
in which we became very much at home before we left Japan. 

Yokohama has an American newness and freshness. It is 
only a few years since it has come into existence as a place 
of any importance. It was only a small fishing village untij 
the opening of Japan, since which it has become the chief 
port of foreign commerce. It is laid out in convenient 
streets, which are well paved, and kept clean, and altogether 
the place has a brisk and lively air, as of some new and 
thriving town in our own country. 

But just at this moment we are not so much interested to 
see American improvements as to see the natives on their own 
soil. Here they are in all their glory — pure-blooded Asiatics 
— and yet of a type that is not Mongolian or Malayan or 
Indian. The Jap is neither a " mild Hindoo " nor a " heathen 
Chinee." His hair is shaved from his head in a fashion quite 
his own, making a sort of triangle on the crown ; and no long 
pigtail decorates his person behind. We recognize him at 
once, for never was a human creature so exactly like his por- 
trait. We see every day the very same figures that we have 
seen all our lives on tea-cups and saucers, and fans and 
boxes. Our first acquaintance with them was as charioteers, 
in which they take the place, not of drivers, but of horses ; 
for the jin-riki-sha (literally, a carriage drawn by man power) 
Daa no other "team" harnessed to it. The \ehicle is exactly 



400 jm-EIKI-SHAS. 

like a baby carriage, only made for ^' children of a largei 
growth." It is simply an enlarged perambulator, on two 
wheels, drawn by a coolie ; and when one takes his seat in it 
he cannot help feeling at first as if he were a big baby, whom 
his nurse had tucked up and was takiug out for an airing. 
But one need not be afraid of it, lest he break down the 
carriage, or tire out the steed that draws it. No matter now 
great your excellency may be, the stout fellow will take up 
the thills, standing where the pony or the donkey ought to 
be, and trot off with you at a good pace, making about four 
miles an hour. At first the impression was irresistibly ludi- 
srous, and we laughed at ourselves to see what a ridiculous 
figure we cut. Indeed we did not quite recover our sobriety 
during the three weeks that we were in Japan. But after all 
:t is a very convenient w^ay of getting about, and one at least 
is satisfied that his horses will not run away, though he must 
not be too sure of that, for I sometimes felt, especially when 
going down hill, that they had got loose, and would land me 
with a broken head at the bottom. 

But Yokohama is only the gate of Yedo (or Tokio, as it is 
the fashion to call it now, but I keep to the old style as more 
familiar), of which we had read even in our school geogra- 
phies as one of the most populous cities of Asia. The access 
is very easy, for it is only eighteen miles distant, and there is 
a railroad, so that it is but an hour's ride. While on our 
way that morning, we had our first sight of Fusiyama. 
Though seventy miles distant, its dome of snow rose on the 
Ijorizon sharp and clear, like the Jungfrau at Interlachen. 

Arrived at Yedo, the s^^tion was surrounded hyjinrikishas, 
jfhose masters were kept in better order than the cabmen of 
New York. Wishing to appear in the capital with proper 
dignity, we took two men instead of one, so that each had a 
full team; and fine young bloods they were, full of spirit, 
that fairly danced with us along the street, in such gay fash- 
ion tliat uiy clerical garb was hardly sufficient to preserve mj 



YEDO. 401 

clerical diaj-acter. We first trotted off to the American 
Minister's, Mr. Bingham's, who received us with all courtesy, 
and sent for the interpreter of the Legation, Rev. Mr. 
Thompson, an American missionary, who kindly offered to 
be our guide about the city, and gave up the day to us. With 
such a cicerone, we started on our rounds. He took us first 
to what is called the Summer Palace, though it is not a pal- 
ace at all, but only a park, to which the Mikado comes once 
in a while to take his royal pleasure. There are a few rest- 
houses scattered about, where one, whether king or common- 
er, might find repose ; or strolling under the shade of trees, 
md looking off upon the tranquil sea. Next we rode to the 
Tombs of the Tycoons, where, under gilded shrines, beneath 
temples and pagodas, sleep the royal dead. The grounds are 
farge and the temples exquisitely finished, with the fine lacquer 
work for which the Japanese are famous ; so that we had to 
take off our shoes, and step very softly over the polished 
floors. Hiding on through endless streets, our friend took us 
to a hill, ascended by a long flight of steps, on the top of 
which, in an open space, stood a temple, an arbor, and a tea- 
house. This point commands an extensive view of Yedo. 
It is a city of magnificent distances, spreading out for miles 
on every side ; and yet, except for its extent, it is not at all 
imposing, for it is, like Canton, a mere wilderness of houses, 
relieved by no architectural magnificence — not a single lofty 
tower or dome rising above the dead level. But, unlike 
Canton, the city has very broad streets, sometimes crossed 
by a river or a canal, spanned by high, arched bridges. The 
principal business street is much wider than Broadway, but 
it has not a shop along its whole extent that would make any 
sh^w even in " The Boweiy." The houses are built only one 
story higli, because of earthquakes which are frequent in 
Japan, caused, as the people believe, by a huge fish which 
lies under the island, and that shakes it whenever he tosses 
his head or lashes his tail. Tlie houses are of such slight 



i02 YBIX). 

construction that they burn like tinder; and it is not sat 
prising that the city is often swept by destructive fires. But 
if the whole place were thus swept away, or if it were sliakeu 
to pieces by an earthquake in the night, the people would 
pick themselves up in the morning and restore their dwell- 
ings, with not much more difficulty than soldiers, whoss 
tents had been blown down by the wind, would find in pitch- 
ing them again and making another camp. Some of the 
government buildings are of more stately proportions, and 
there are open grounds in certain quarters of the city, adorned 
with magnificent trees, like the ancient oaks which cast their 
shadows on the smooth-shaven lawns of England, and give 
to English parks such an air of dignity and repose. 

The Castle of the late Tycoon, which may be said to be the 
heart of the city, around which it clusters, is more of a fortress 
than a palace. There is an immense enclosure surrounded by 
a deep moat (whose sides are very pretty, banked with rich 
green turf), and with picturesque old towers standing at inter- 
vals along the walls. In the rear of the grounds of the old Cas- 
tle is the much less ambitious residence of the Mikado, where 
he is duly guarded, though he does not now, as formerly, 
keep himself invisible, as if he were a divinity descended from 
the skies, who in mysterious seclusion ruled the affairs of men. 

By this time we were a little weary of sight-seeing, and 
drew up at a Japanese tea-house, to take our tiffin. The 
place was as neat as a pin, and the little maids came out to 
receive us, and bowed themselves to the ground, touching 
the earth with their foreheads, in token of the great honor 
that had come to their house — homage that we received with 
becoming dignity, and went on our way rejoicing. 

The pleasantest sights that we saw to-day were two wliicL 
showed the awakened intelligence and spirit of progress 
among the people. These were the Government College, 
with two hundred studuits, manned in part by American 
professors (where we found our countryman Dr. Veedei 



KXJUR8I0N mTG THE tNTEElOE. 403 

in hi* lecture-room, performing experiments) ; and an old 
Temple of Confucius which has been turned into a library 
and reading-room. Here was a large collection of books and 
periodicals, many from foreign countries, over which a num- 
ber of persons were quietly but studiously engaged. The 
enclosure was filled with grand old trees, and had the air of 
An academic grove, whose silent shades were devoted to studj' 
and learning. 

After this first visit to the capital, we took a week for an 
excursion into the interior, which gave us a sight of the 
country and of Japanese life. This we could not have made 
with any satisfaction but for our friends the missionaries. 
They kindly sketched the outlines of a trip to the base of 
Fusiyama, seventy miles from Yedo. It was very tempting, 
but what could we dr. without guides or interpreters ? We 
should be lost like babes in the wood. It occurred to us 
that such a journey might do them good. Dr. Brown and 
Dr. Hepburn, the oldest missionaries in Japan, had been 
closely confined for months in translating the Scriptures, and 
needed some relief. A little country air would give them 
new life ; so we invited them to be our guests, and we would 
make a week of it. We finally prevailed upon them to " come 
apart and rest awhile," not in a " desert," but in woodland 
shades, among the mountains and by the sea. Their wives 
came with them, without whom their presence would have 
given us but half the pleasure it did. Thus encompassed and 
fortified with the best of companions, with a couple of Eng- 
lish friends, we made a party of eight, which, with the usual 
impedimenta of provisions and a cook, and extra shawls and 
blankets, required eleven jinrikishas, with two men bar- 
uessed to each, making altogether quite a grand cavalcade, 
as we sallied forth from Yokohama on a Monday noon in 
"high feather." To our staid missionary frier ds it was an 
old story ; but to us^ strangers in the land, it w {is highly ex- 
citing to be thus starting off into the interior of Japan. Thf 



404 EXCUKSION INTO THE INTEKIOB. 

country around Yokohama is hillj and broken. Our wa^ 
wound through a succession of vaL{iys rich with fields of 
rice and barley, while along the roads shrubberies, which ai 
home are cultivated with great care, grew in wild profusion 
- — the wisteria, the honeysuckle, and the eglantine. The suo- 
cession of hill and valley gave to the country a variety and 
beauty which, with the high state of cultivation, reminded 
us of Java. As we mounted the hills we had glimpses of 
the sea, for we were skirting along the Bay of Yedo. After 
a few miles we came to an enchanting spot, which bears the 
ambitious title of the Plains of Heaven, yet which is not 
heaven, and is not even a plain — but a rolling country, in 
which hill and valley are mingled together, with the purple 
mountains as a background on one side and the blue waters 
on the other. 

As we rode along, I thought how significant was the simple 
fact of such an excursion as this in a country, where a few 
years ago no foreigner's life was safe. On this very road, 
less than ten years since, an Englishman was cut down for 
no other crime than that of being a foreigner, and getting in 
the way of the high daimio who was passing. And now we 
jogged along as quietly, and with as little apprehension, as 
if we were riding through the villages of New England. 

On our way lies a town which once bore a great name, Kama 
kura, where nine centuries ago lived the great Yoritomo, the 
Napoleon of liis day, the founder of the military rule in the 
person of the Shogun (or Tycoon, a title but lately assumed), 
as distinguished from that of the Mikado. Here he made 
his capital, which was afterwards removed, and about three 
hundred years since fixed in Yedo ; and Kamakura is J *ft, 
like other decayed capitals, to live on the recollections of 
its former greatness. But no change can take away iti 
natural beauty, in its sheltered valley near the sea. 

A mile beyond, we came to the colossal image of Dai-Buts, 
or Great Buddha. It is of bronze, and though in a sitting 



DAI-BUTS. 40.5 

posture^ is forty-four feet high. The hands are crossed upon 
the knees. We crawled up into his lap, and five of us sat 
side by side on his thumbs. We even went inside, and 
climbed up into his head, and proved by inspection tkaf 
these idols, however colossal and imposing without, are 
empty within. There are no brains within their brazen 
skulls. The expression of the face is the same as in all 
statues of Buddha : that of repose — passive, motionless — as 
of one who had passed through the struggles of life, and at- 
tained to Nirvana, the state of perfect calm, which is thn 
perfection of heavenly beatitude. 

It was now getting towards sunse.t, and we had still five 
or six miles to go before we reached our resting-place for the 
night. x4.s this was the last stage in the journey, our fleet 
coursers seemed resolved to show us what they could do. 
They had cast off all their garments, except a cloth around 
their loins, and straw sandals on their feet, so that they were 
stripped like Roman gladiators, and they put forth a speed 
as if racing in the arena. A connoisseur would admire their 
splendid physique. Their bodies were tattooed, like South 
Sea Islanders, which set out in bolder relief, as in savage 
warriors, their muscular development — their broad chests 
and brawny limbs. With no stricture of garments to bind 
them, their limbs were left free for motion. It was a study 
to see how they held themselves erect. With heads and 
chests thrown back, they balanced themselves perfectly. The 
weight of the carriage seemed nothing to them ; they had 
only to keep in motion, and it followed. Thus we came 
rushing into the streets of Fujisawa, and drew up before the 
tea-house, where lodgings had been ordered for the night. 
The whole family turned out to meet us, the women falling 
jn their knees, and bowing their heads till they touched the 
floor, in homage to the greatness of their guests. 

And now came our first experience of a Japanese tea- 
bouse. If the Jin riki-sha is like a baby carriage, the tea 



406 TEMPLE AT FUJISAWA. 

hoase is like a baby bouse. It is small, built entirely o' 
wood witb sliding partitions, whicb can be drawn, likf 
screens, to enclose any open space, and make it into a room 
These partitions are of paper, so that of course the " cham 
bers " are not very private. The same material is used for 
windows, and answers very well, as it softens the light, like 
ground glass. The house has always a veranda, so that the 
rooms are protected from the sun by the overhanging roof. 
The bedrooms are very small, but scrupulously clean, and 
covered with wadded matting, on which we lie down to 
sleep. 

At Fujisawa is a temple, which is visited by the Mikado 
once or twice in the year. We were shown through his 
private rooms, and one or two of us even stretched ourselves 
upon his bed, which, however, was not a very daring feat, as 
it was merely a strip of matting raised like a low divan or 
ottoman, a few inches above the floor. The temples are not 
imposing structures, and have no beauty except that of posi- 
tion. They generally stand on a hill, and are approached bj 
an avenue or a long flight of steps, and the grounds are set 
out with trees, which are left to grow till they som.etimea 
attain a majestic height and breadth. In front of this tem- 
ple stands a tree, which we recognized by its foliage as the 
Salishuria adiantifolia — a specimen of whicb we had in 
A merica on our own lawn, but there it was a shrub brought 
from the nursery, while here it was like a cedar of Lebanon. 
It was said to be a thousand years old. Standing here, it 
was regarded as a sacred tree, and we looked up to it with 
more reverence than to the sombre temple behind, or the 
sleepy old bonzes who were sauntering idly about the 
grounds. 

The next morning, as we started on our journey, we came 
upon the Tokaido, tlie royal road of Japan, built hundreds 
of years ago from Yedo to Kioto, to connect the politica) 
with the spiritual capital — the residence of the T f coon witi' 



THE TOKAroO. dO? 

that of the Mikado. It is the highway along which thf 
dainiios came in state to pay their homage to t: e Tycoon at 
Vedo, as of old subject-princes came to Rome. It is construci- 
ed with a good deal of skill in engineering, w^hich is shown in 
carrying it over mountains, and in the biiilding of bridges 
Portions of the road are paved with blocks of stone like the 
Appian Way. But that which gives it a glory and majesty 
all its own, is its bordering of gigantic cedars — the Crypto- 
meria Japonica — which attain an enormous height, with 
gnarled and knotted limbs that have wrestled with the 
storms of centuries. 

As we advance, the road comes out upon the sea, for we 
have crossed the peninsula which divides the Bay of Yedo 
from the Pacific, and are now on the shores of the ocean 
itself. How beautiful it seemed that day ! It was the last 
of May, and the atmosphere was full of the warmth of 
early summer. The coast is broken by headlands shooting 
out into the deep, which enclose bays, where the soft, warm 
sunshine lingers as on the shores of the Mediterranean, and 
the waters of the mighty Pacific come gently rippling up the 
beach. So twixt sea and land, sunshine and shade, we sped 
gaily along to Odawara — another place which was once the 
residence of a powerful chief, whose castle is still there, 
though in ruins ; its stones, if questioned of the past, might 
tell a tale like that of one of the castles on the Rhine. These 
old castles are the monuments of the same form of govern- 
ment, for the Feudal System existed in Japan as in Germany, 
The kingdom was divided into provinces, ruled by great dai- 
mios, who were like the barons of the Middle Ages, each with 
his armed retainers, who might be called upon to support 
the central government, yet who sometimes made war upon it. 
This Feudal System is now completely destroyed. As we 
were riding over the Tokaido, I pictured to myself the greal 
pageants that had swept along so proudly in the days gone 
by. What would those old barons have thought if the;? 



408 NEW MODE OF TKANSPORTATION. 

could liave seen in the future an irruption of invaders fron 
beyond the sea, and that even this king's highway should 
ouo day be trodden by the feet of outside barbarians ? 

At Odawara we dismissed our men, (who, as soon as they 
received tbeir money, started off for Yokohama,) as we had to 
try another mode of transportation ; for though we still kept 
the Tokaido, it ascends the mountains so steeply that it is 
impassable for anything on wheels, and we had to exchange 
the jinrikisha for the kago — a kind of basket made of bam- 
boo, in which a man is doubled up and packed like a bundle, 
and so carried on men's shoulders. It would not answer 
badly if he had neither head nor legs. But his head is 
always knocking against the ridge-pole, and his legs have to be 
twisted under him, or "tied up in a bow-knot." This is the 
way in which, criminals are carried to execution in China ; 
but for one who has any further use for his limbs, it is not 
altogether agreeable. I lay passive for awhile, feeling as if I 
had been packed and salted down in a pork-barrel. Then I 
began to wriggle, and thrust out my head on one side and the 
other, and at last had to confess, like the Irishman who was 
offered the privilege of working his passage on a canal -boat 
and was set to leading a horse, that "if it were not for the 
honor of the thing, I had as lief walk." So I crawled out 
and unrolled myself, to see if my limbs were still there, for 
they were so benumbed that I was hardly conscious of their 
existence, and then straightening myself out, and taking a 
long bamboo reed, which is light and strong, lithe and springy, 
for an alpenstock, I started off with my companions We all 
Boon recovered our spirits, and 

*' Walked in glory and in joy 
Along the mountain side," 

till at nightfall we halted in the village of Hakon6, a moun^ 
tain retreat much resorted to by foreigners fro iq Yedo and 
Yokohama. 



LAKE AND MOrNTAlNS. 409 

Here we might have been in the Highlands of Scotland, 
for we were in the heart of mountains, and on the border of 
a lake. To make the resemblance more perfect, a Scotch 
mist hung over the hills, and rain pattered on the roof all 
night long, and half the next day. But at noon the clouds 
broke, and we started on our journey. Dr. and Mrs. Browp 
and Mrs. Hepburn kept to their baskets, and were borne a 
long way round, while the rest of us were rowed acrosp 
the lake, a beautiful sheet of water, nestled among the hills, 
like Loch Katrine. One of these hills is tunnelled for two 
miles, to carry the water under it to irrigate the ricf 
fields of some twenty villages. Landing on the other side of 
the lake, we had before us a distance of eight or ten miles. 
Our coolies stood ready to carry us, but all preferred the 
freedom of their unfettered limbs. The mountain is volcanic, 
and on the summit is a large space made desolate by frequent 
eruptions, out of which issues smoke laden with the fumes of 
sulphur, and hot springs throw off jets of steam, and boil and 
bubble, and hiss with a loud noise, as if all the furies were 
pent up below, and spitting out their rage through the 
fissures of the rocks. The side of the mountain is scarred 
and torn, and yellow with sulphur, like the sides of Vesu- 
vius. The natives call the place Hell. It was rather an 
abrupt transition, after crossing the Plains of Heaven a day 
or two before, to come down so soon to the sides of the pit. 

Towards evening we came down into the village of Miya- 
no-shita (what musif al names these Japanese have ! ), where 
our friends were waiting for us, and over a warm cup of tea 
talked over the events of the day. This is a favorite resort, 
for its situation among the mountains, with lovely walks on 
every side, and for its hot springs. Water is brought into 
the hotel in pipes of bamboo, so hot that one is able to bear 
t only after slowly dipping his feet into it, and thus sliding in 
by degrees, when the sensation is as of being scalded alive. 
But it takes the soreness out of one's limbs weary with a long 
18 



ilO JAPANESE WOMEN. 

day's tramps ard after being steamed and boiled, we stretcii 
ed ourselves on the clean mats of the tea-house, and skpt the 
sleep of innocence and peace. 

One cannot go anywhere in Japa^i withov^t receiving a 
visit from the peoj le, who, being of a thrifty turn, seize the 
occasion of a stranger's presence to drivo a little trade. The 
skill of the Japanese is quite marvellous in certain directions. 
They make everything in 2^€iio, in miniature — the smallest 
earthenware j the tiniest cups and saucers. In these moun- 
tain villages they work, like the Swiss, in wooden-ware, and 
make exquisite and dainty little boxes and bureaus, as if 
for dolls, yet with complete sets of drawers, which could not 
but take the fancy of one who had little people at home wait- 
ing for presents. Besides the temptation of such trinkets, 
Tv^ho could resist the insinuating manner of the women who 
brought them ? The Japanese women are not pretty. They 
--night be, were it not for their odious fashions. We have 
teen faces that would be quite handsome if left in their 
native, unadorned beauty. But fashion rules the world in 
Japan as in Paris. As soon as a woman is married her eye- 
brows are shaved oflf, and her teeth blackened, so that she 
eannot open her mouth without showing a row of ebony in- 
stead of ivory, which disfigures faces that would be otherwise 
quite winning. It says a good deal for their address, that 
with such a feature to repel, they can still be attractive. 
This is owing wholly to their manners. The Japanese men 
and wom'^n are a light-hearted race, and captivate by their 
gayety and friendliness. The women were always in a merry 
LTQOod. As soon as they entered the room, before even a 
word w\as spoken, they began to giggle, as if our appearance 
were very funny, or as if this were the quickest way to be ou 
good terms with us. The effect was irresistible. I defy the 
soberest man to resist it, for as soon as your visitor langha, 
you begin to laugh from sym])atliy ; and when you have got 
Into a hearty laugh together, you are alre}\,dy acjuain^ »d, aiiid 



TKYING TO SEE FUSIYAMA. 411 

in fri<.'n ily relations, and the work of buying and selling goes 
on easily. They took us captive in a few minutes. We 
purchased sparingly, thinking of our long journey ; but our 
English friends bought right and left, till the next day they 
Lad to load two pack-horses with boxes to be carried over 
the mountains to Yokohama. 

The next day was to bring the consummation of our jour- 
ney, for then we were to go up into a mountain and see the 
glory of the Lord. A few miles distant is the summit of 
Otometoge, from which one obtains a view of Fusiyama, 
looking fidl in his awful face. We started with misgivings, 
for it had been raining, and the clouds still hung low upon 
the mountains. Our way led through hamlets clustered to- 
gether in a narrow pass, like Alpine villages. As we wound 
up the ascent, we often stopped to look back at the valley be- 
low, from which rose the murmur of rushing waters, while 
the sides of the mountains were clothed with forests. These 
rich landscapes gave such enchantment to the scene as rejjaid 
us for all our weariness. At two o'clock we reached the 
top, and rushed to the brow to catch the vision of Fusiyama, 
but only to be disappointed. The mountain was there, but 
clouds covered his hoary head. In vain we watched and 
waited ; still the monarch hid his face. Clouds were round 
about the throne. The lower ranges stood in full outline, but 
the heaven-piercing dome, or pyramid of snow, was wrajjped 
in its misty shroud. That for v^hich we had travelled seventy 
miles, we could not see at last. 

Is it not often so in life ? The moments that we have 
looked forward to with highest expectations, are disappoint- 
ing when they come. We cross the seas, and journey far, to 
reach some mount of vision, when lo ! the sight that was to 
reward us is hidden from our eyes ; while our liigliest rar*" 
tures come to us unsought, perhaps in visions of the night. 

But our toilsome climb was not unrewarded. Below iii 
lap a broad, deep valley, to which the rice fields gave a -^ivict 



412 RETUKN BY THE TOKAIPO. 

green, dotted with houses and villages, vhicli were scatteret 
over the middle distance, and even around the base of Fusi 
yama himself. Drinking in the full loveliness of the scene 
we turned to descend, and after a three hours' march, footsore 
and weary, entered our Alpine village of Miya-no-shita, 

The next morning we set out to return. Had the day 
shone bright and clear, we should have been tempted to re- 
new our ascent of the day before. But as the clouds were 
still over the sky, we reluctantly turned away. Taking an- 
other route from that by which we came, we descended a deep 
valley, and winding around the heights which we had crossed 
before, at eleven o'clock reentered Odawara. 

And now we had done with our marching and our kagos^ 
and once more took to our chariots, which drew up to the 
door — the men not exactly saddled and bridled, but stripped 
for the race, with no burden added to the burden of the flesh 
which they had to carry. A crowd collected to see us depart, 
and looked on admiringly as we went dashing through the 
long street of Odawara, and out upon the Tokaido. Our 
way, as before, led by the sea, which was in no tempestuous 
mood, but calm and tranquil, as if conscious that the summer 
was born. The day was not too warm, for the clouds that were 
flying over the sky shielded us from the direct rays of the 
sun ; yet as he looked out now and then, the giant trees cast 
their shadows across our path. An American poet sings : 

" What is so rare as a day in June ? ' ' 

Surely nothing could be more rare or fair; but even the 
eky and the soft Summer air seemed more full of exquisite 
sensations to the strangers who were that day rolling along 
the shores of the Pacific, under the mighty cedars of the 
Tokaido, 

Once more I was surprised and deliglited at tl e agility and 
swiftness of the men who drew our jin-rikl-shas. As we had 
Sut twenty-three miles to go in ^he afternoon, we took i< 



SPEED OF THE JLN-KIEI-SHA MEN 4. ^ 

easily, and gave them first only a gentle tiot of five miles tc 
get their limbs a little supple, and then stopped for tiffin 
Some of the men had on a loose jacket when we started, be- 
sides the girdle about the loins. This they took off and 
wrung out, for they were dripping with sweat, and wiped 
their brawny chests and limbs, and then took their chopsticks 
and applied themselves to their rice, while we went upstairs 
in the tea-house, and had our soup and other dishes served 
to us, sitting on the floor like Turks, and then stretched our- 
selves on the mats, weary with our morning's walk, and evec 
with the motion of riding. While we were trying to get a 
little rest our men talked and laughed in the court below as 
if it were child's play to take us over the road. As we re- 
sumed our places and turned out of the yard, I had the curi- 
osity to " time " their speed. I had a couple of athletic fel- 
lows, who thought me a mere feather in weight, and made 
me spin like a top as they bowled along. They started off ai 
an easy trot, which they kept up, without breaking, mik 
after mile. I did not need to crack the whip, but at the 
word, away they flew through villages and over the open 
country, never stopping, but when they came to slightly ris- 
ing ground, rushing up like mettlesome horses, and down at 
full speed. Thus they kept on, and never drew rein till they 
came to the bank of a river, which had to be crossed in a 
boat. I took out my watch. It was an hour and a quarter, 
and they had come seven miles and a half ! This was doing 
pretty well. Of course they could not keep this up all day ; 
jet they will go thirty miles from sunrise to sunset, and even 
forty, if spurred to it by a little extra pay. Sometimes, in 
deed, they go even at a still greater speed for a short distance. 
The first evening, as we came into Fujisawa, I do not doubt 
that the last fifteen minutes they were going at a speed of ten 
miles an hour, for they came in on a run. This is magnifi- 
cent, but I cannot think it very healthful exercise. As gym 
nasts and prize-fighters gi-ow old and die before their time. 



4:14 ENOSHIMA 

SO with these human racehorses. Dr. Ilepbiirn says it ex 
hausts them very early ; that they break down with disease 
of the heart or lungs. They are very liable to rheuma,tism. 
This is partly owing to their carelessness. They get heated^^ 
and then expose their naked bodies to drafts of cold air, 
which of course stiffens their limbs, so that an old runner be 
comes like a foundered horse. But even with all care, the 
fatigue is very exhausting, and often brings on diseases which 
take them off in their prime. Yet you cannot restrain their 
speed, any more than that of colts that have never been bro- 
ken. I often tried to check them, but they "champed at the 
bit," and after a few vain remonstrances I had to give it up, 
and " let them slide." 

We did not stop at Fujisawa, where we had slept before, 
for it is a large and noisy town, but pushed on three miles 
farther, across a sandy beach to Enoshima, a little fishing 
village, which stands on a point of land jutting out into the 
sea, so that at high tide it is an island, and at low tide a 
peninsula. Indeed, it is not much more than a projecting 
rock of a few hundred acres, rising high out of the waters, 
and covered thickly with groves of trees, among which are 
several Buddhist temples. As we strolled along the top of 
the cliffs at sunset, there were a dozen points of view where 
we could sit under the shade of trees a hundred feet above 
the waves, as on the cliffs of the Isle of Wight, saying with 
Tennyson : 

" Break, break, break, 
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea 1 " 

Tke next morning we rambled over the i.ills again, for it 
was a spot where one could but linger. The bay was aliv« 
with boats, as 

*' The fishers went sailing out into the West." 
On the shore were divers, who plunged from the rocks int-^g 



SECOND VISIT TO fEDC. 415 

deep water, to bring up shells and coral for us, and a s'jrt ot 
sponge peculiar to this country, with spicules like thr'^.ads 
of spun glass. Under the cliff is a long cave, hollowed out by 
the waves, with an arch overhead like a vaulted roof. Thus 
dnder ground or above ground we wandered hour after hour. 

But all things pleasant must have an end. The week was 
gone ; it was Saturday noon : and so reluctantly leaving 
both the mountains and the sea, and taking to our chariots 
once more, we struck into the Tokaido, and in four hours 
were rolling along the Bund at Yokohama. 

Three days after we made a second visit to Yedo, to visit 
an American gentleman who held a position in the Foreign 
Office, and spent a night at his pretty Japanese house in the 
Oovernment grounds. Here being, as it were, in the interior 
of the State Department, we got some European news ; 
among which was the startling intelligence of a revolution in 
Turkey, and that Abdul Aziz had been deposed ! 

In our second excursion about the city, as we had long 
distances to traverse, we took two prancing bucks to each 
jinrikisha, who ran us such a rig through the streets of Yedo 
as made us think of John Gilpin when he rode to London 
town. The fellows were like wild colts, so full of life that 
they had to kick it off at the heels. Sometimes one pulled 
in front while the other pushed behind, but more often they 
went tandem, the one in advance drawing by a cord over his 
shoulder. The leader was so full of spring that he fairly 
bounded over the ground, and if we came to a little elevation, 
or arched bridge, he sprang into the air like a catamountj 
while his fellow behind, though a little more stiff, as a "^ wheel 
horse " ought to be, bore himself proudly, tossing up his head, 
and throwing out his chest, and never lagged for an instant. 

C was delighted, nothing could go too fast for her ; but 

whether it was fear for my character or for my head, I had 
Berious apprehension that I sh Duld be " smashed " like Chi' 
Hfise crockery, and poked my steeds in the rear with my uiu 



1:16 SCENE IN TEDO AT NIGHT 

brella to signify that I was entirely satisfied wijh their pet 
formances, and that they need not go any faster ! 

While in Yedo we attended a meeting of missionarie&j 
English, Scotch, and American, in a distant part of the city, 
and in the evening paid a visit to Prof. Verbeck, who haa 
been here so long that he is an authority on all Japanese 
matters. It was eight o'clock when we set out to return to 
our friends in the Foreign Office, and we bade our men ta,ke 
us through the main streets, that we might have a view of 
Yedo by night. The distance was some three miles, the 
greater part through the principal street. It was near the 
time of the full moon, but fortunately she was hidden to- 
night by clouds, for even her soft radiance could not give 
such animation and picturesqueness to the scene as the lights 
of the city itself. The broad street for two miles was in a 
flare of gas-light, like one of the great streets of Paris. The 
shops were open and lighted ; added to which were hundreds 
(perhaps thousands) of jin-riki-shas^ each with its Chinese 
lantern, glancing to and fro, like so many fireflies on a sum- 
mer night, making a scene such as one reads of in the Ara- 
bian Nights, but as I had never witnessed before. 

But that which is of most interest to a stranger in Japan, 
is not Yedo or Fusiyama, but the sudden revolution which 
has taken place in its relations with other countries, and in 
its internal condition. This is one of the most remarkable 
events in history, which, in a few years, has changed a whole 
nation, so that from being the most isolated, the most exclu- 
sive, and the most rigidly conservative, even in Asia, it has 
become the most active and enterprising ; the most open to 
foreign influences ; the most hospitable to foreign ideaa^, and the 
most ready to introduce foreign improvements. This change 
has taken Japan out of the ranks of the non-progressive 
nations, to place it, if not in the van of modern improve- 
ment, at least not very far in the rear. It has taken it out 
of the stagnant life of Asia, to infuse into its veins the life 



JAPAN OJ^ENED BY AMEKIOA. 41t 

of Europe and America. In a word, it has, as it ^ere, un 
moored Japan from the coast of Asia, and towed it across the 
Pacific, to place it alongside of the New World, to have the 
same course of life and progress. 

It is a singular fact, which, as it has united cur twa 
nations in the past, ought to unite us in the future, that the 
opening of Japan came from America. It would have come 
in time from the natural growth of the commerce of the 
world, but the immediate occasion was the settlement of 
California. The first emigration, consequent on the discovery 
of gold, was in 1849 ; the treaty with Japan in 1854. As soon 
as there sprang up an American Empire on our Western coast, 
there sprang up also an American commerce on the Pacific. 
Up to that time, except the whalers from New Bedford that 
we-ut round Cape Horn, to cast their harpoons in the North 
Pacific, or an occasional vessel to the Sandwich Islands, or that 
brought a cargo of tea from China, there were few A merican 
ships in the Pacific. But now it was ploughed by fleets of 
ships, and by great lines of steamers. The Western coast of 
America faced the Eastern coast of Asia, and there must be com- 
merce between them. Japan lay in the path to China, and it 
was inevitable that there must be peaceful intercourse, or 
there would be armed collision. The time had come when the 
policy of rigid exclusion could not be permitted any longer. 
Of course Japan had the right which belongs to any inde- 
pendent power, to regulate its commerce with foreign nations. 
But there were certain rights which belonged to all nations, 
and which might be claimed in the interest of humanity. If 
an American ship, in crossing the Pacific on its way to China^ 
were shipwrecked on the shores of Japan, the sailors who 
escaped the perils of the sea had the right to food and shel- 
ter — not to be regarded as trespassers or held as prisoners. 
Yet there had been instaDces in which such crews had been 
treated as captives, and shut up in prison. In one instance 
they were exhibited in cages. If they had fallen amor^ 
18* 



418 PEACKFUI INTEEC0T7ESE. 

Barbary pirates, they could not have been treated wifcl 
greater severity. This state of things must come to an end ' 
and in gently forcing the issue, our government led the way. 
As English ships had broken down the wall of China, so did 
an American Heet open the door of Japan, simply by an atti- 
tude of firmness and justice; by demanding nothing bu 
what was right, and supporting it by an imposing display of 
force. Thus Japan was opened to the commerce of America: 
and through it of the world, without shedding a drop of 
blood. 

The result has been almost beyond belief A quarter of 
a century ago no foreign ship could anchor in these waters. 
And now here, in sight of the spot where lay the fleet 
of Commodore Perry, I see a harbor full of foreign ships. 
It struck me strangely, as I sat at our windows in the 
Grand Hotel, and looked out upon the tranquil bay. There 
lay the Tennessee, not with guns run out and matches 
lighted, but in her peaceful dress, with flags flying, not only 
from her mast-head, but from all her yards and rigging 
There were also several English ships of war, with Admiral 
Ryder in command, from whose flag-ship, as from the Ten- 
nessee, we heard the morning and evening gun, and the bands 
playing. The scene was most beautiful by moonlight, when 
the ships lay motionless, and the tall masts cast their shad- 
ows on the water, and all was silent, as in so many sleeping 
camps, save the bells which struck the hours, and marked the 
successive watches all night long. It seemed as if the angel 
of peace rested on the moonlit waters, and that nations 
would not learn war any more. 

The barrier once broken down, foreign commerce began to 
enter the waters of Japan. American ships appeared at the 
open ports. As if to give them welcome, lighthouses were buili 
at exposed points on the coast, so that they might approach 
without danger. A foreign settlement sprung up at Yoko- 
hama. By and b/ young men went abroad to see the world, 



INTERNAL REVOLUTION. 41 S 

or to be educated in Europe or America, and cama ba.k -vilh 
reports of the wealth and power of foreign nations. Soon a 
spirit of imitation took possession of Young Japan. These 
students affected even the fashions of foreign coimtries, an( 
appeared in the streets of Yedo in coat and pantaloons, insteaa 
of tlie old Japanese dress; and ate no longer with chopsticks^ 
but with knives and forks. Thus manners and customs changed, 
to be followed hj a change in laws and in the government 
itself. Till now Japan had had a double-headed government, 
with two sovereigns and two capitals. But now there was a 
revolution in the country, the Tycoon was overthrown, and 
-;he Mikado, laying aside his seclusion and his invisibility, 
came from Kioto to Yedo, and assumed the temporal power, 
and showed himself to his people. The feudal system was 
abolished, and the proud daimios — who, with their clans of 
armed retainers, the samourai, or two-sworded men, were 
independent princes — were stripped of their estates, which 
sometimes were as large as German principalities, and forced 
to disband their retainers, and reduced to the place of pen- 
sioners of the government. The army and navy were recon- 
structed on European models. Instead of the old Japanese 
war-j unks, well-armed frigates were seen in the Bay of Yedo 
— a force which has enabled Japan to take a very decided 
tone in dealing with China, in the matter of the island of For- 
mosa ; and made its power respected along the coast of East- 
ern Asia. We saw an embassy from Corea passing through 
the streets of Yokohama, on its way to Yedo, to pay homage 
to the Mikado, and enter into peaceful relations with Japan. 
A new postal system has been introduced, modelled on oui 
own. In Yokohama one sees over a large building the sign 
** The Japanese Imperial Post-Office," and the postman goa^ 
his rounds, delivering his letters and papers as in England 
and America. There is no opposition to the construction of 
railroads, as in China. Steamers ply around the coast and 
through the Inland Sea; and telegraphs extend from cie eiw? 



420 JAPAN OUR NEAREST NEIGHBOR. 

of the Empire to the other; and crossing the sea, conneol 
Japan with the coast of Asia, and with all parts of the world. 
Better than all, the government has adopted a general systeiH 
of national education, at the head of which is our own Ftot 
Murray; it has established schools and colleges, and Lutro- 
duced teachers from Europe and America. In Yedo I was 
taken by Prof. McCartee to see a large and noble institution 
for the education of girls, established under the patronage of 
the Empress. These are signs of progress that cannot be 
paralleled in any other nation in the world. 

With such an advance in less than one generation, what 
may we not hope in the generation to come ? In her efforts 
at progress, Japan deserves the sympathy and support of the 
whole civilized world. Having responded to the demand for 
commercial intercourse, she has a just claim to be placed on 
the footing of the most favored nations. Especially is she 
entitled to expect friendship from our country. As it fell to 
America to be the instrument of opening Japan, it ought to 
be orr pride to show her that the new path into which we 
led her, is a path of peace and prosperity. Japan is our near- 
est neighbor on the west, as Ireland is on the east ; and among 
nations, as among individuals, neighbors ought to be friends, 
it seemed a good token that the American Union Church in 
Yokohama should stand on the very spot where Commodore 
Perry made his treaty with Japan — the beginning, let us hope, 
of immeasurable good to both nations. As India is a part of 
the British Empire, and may look to England to secure for 
her the benefits of modern civilization, no the duty of stretch- 
ing out a hand aci oss the seas to Japan, may fairly be laid on 
the American church and the American people. 

Our visit was coming to an end. A day or two we spent 
in the shops, buying photographs and bronzes, and in paying 
farewell visits to the missionaries, who hid shown us so much 
kindness. The '* parting cup " of tea we took at Dr. Hep- 
burn's, and from his windows had a full view of Eusiyama, that 



CROSSING THE PACIFIC. 421 

(ooked out upon us once more in all his glorj We were tc 
embark that evening, to sail at daylight. Mr. John Ballagh 
and several ladies of ** The Home," who had made us 
welcome in their pleasant circle, "accompanied us to the 
ship." We had a long row across the bay just as the moor, 
was rising, covering the waters with silver, and making the 
great ships look like mighty shadows as they stood up 
against the sky. " On such a night " we took our farewell 
of Asia. 

The next morning very early we were sailing down the bay 
of Yedo, and were soon out on the Pacific. But the coast 
remained long in sight, and we sat on deck watching the 
receding shores of a country which in three weeks had 
become so familiar and so dear ; and when at last it sunk 
beneath the waters, we left our " benediction " on that beau- 
tiful island set in the Northern Seas. 

We did not steer straight for San Francisco, although it is 
in nearly the same latitude as Yokohama, but turned north, 
following what navigators call a Great Circle, on the princi- 
ple that as they get high up on the globe, the degrees of 
longitude are shorter, and thus they can ** cut across " at the 
high latitudes. " It is nearer to go around the hill than to 
go over it." We took a prodigious sweep, following the K^uro- 
shiwo, or Black Current, the Gulf Stream of the Pacific, which 
flows up the coast of Asia, and down the coast of America. 
We bore away to the north till we were ofi* the coast of Kam- 
schatka, and within a day's sail of Petropaulovski, before we 
turned East. Our ship was ** The Oceanic," of the famous 
White Star line, which, if not so magnificent as " The City 
of Peking," was quite as swift a sailer, cleaving the waters 
like a sea-bird. In truth, the albatrosses that came about 
the ship for days from the Aleutian Islands, now soaring in 
air, and now skimming the waters, did not flopt along more 
easily or more gracefully. 

As we crossed the 180th degree of longitude, jus' half thf 



i22 GAINING A DAT. 

way around the world from the Royal Observatory at Grean 
w^'ch, we "gained a day," or rather, recovered cne that w« 
had lost. As we had started eastward, we lost a few minute? 
each day, and had to set our watches every noon. We weie 
constantly chauging our meridian, so that no day ended 
where it began, and we never had a day of full twenty- 
four hours, but always a few minutes, like sands, had 
crumbled away. By the time we reached England, fi.vr 
hours had thus dropped into the sea ; and when we had ecu 
passed the globe, we had parted, inch by inch, moment oy 
moment, with a whole day. It seemed as if this were so 
much blotted out from the sum of our being — gone in the 
vast and wandering air — lost in the eternities, from whi<^b 
nothing is ever recovered. But these lost moments and 
hours were all gathered up in the chambers of the East, and 
now in mid-ocean, one morning brought us a day not in the 
calendar, to be added to the full year. Two days bore the 
same date, the 18th of June, and as this fell on a Sunday, 
two holy days came together — one the Sabbath of Asia, 
the other of America. It seemed fit that this added day 
should be a sacred one, for it was something taken, as it 
were, from another portion of time to be added to our lives 
— a day which came to us fresh from its ocean baptism, with 
not a tear of sorrow or a thought of sin to stain its purity ; 
and we kept a double Sabbath in the midst of the sea. 

Seventeen days on the Pacific, with nothing to break the 
boundless monotony ! In all that breadth of ocean which 
separates Asia and America, we saw not a single sail on the 
horizon ; and no land, not even an island, till we came in 
sight of those shores which are dearer to us than any other 
in all the round world. 

Here, in sight of land, this story end?. There is no neei 
to tell of crossing the continent, which completed our circuit 
of the globe, but only to add in a word the lesson and the 
moral of this Vng journey. Going abound the worla is am 



GOBTG ROUND THE WC KLD AN EDUCATION. 'i23 

education. It is nut a mere pastime ; it is often a great 
fatigue ; but it is a means of gaining knowledge which can 
only be obtained by observation. Charles Y. used to sa} 
that " the more languages a man knew, he was so many more 
times a man." Each new form of human speech introduced 
him into a new world of thought and life. So in some degree 
is it in traversing other continents, and mingling with other 
races. However great America may be, it is '' something " 
to add to it a knowledge of Europe and Asia. Unless one be 
encased in pride, or given over to ** invincible ignorance," it 
will teach him modesty. He will boast less of his own coun- 
try, though perhaps he will love it more. He will see the 
greatness of other nations, and the virtues of other people. 
Even the tirrbaned Orientals may teach us a lesson in dignity 
and courtesy — a lesson of repose, the want of which is a de- 
fect in our national character. In every race there is some- 
thing good — some touch of gentleness that makes the wholo 
world kin. Those that are most strange and far from us 
as we approach them, show qualities that win our love anci 
command our respect. 

In all these wanderings, I have met no rudeness in word 
or act from Turks or Arabs, Hindoos or Malays, Chinese 
or Japanese ; but have often received kindness from strangers. 
The one law that obtains in all nations is the law of kindness. 
Have I not a right to say that to know men is to love them, 
not to hate them nor despise them? 

He who hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell 
on the earth, hath not forgotten any of His children. There 
is a beauty in every country and in every clime. Each zone 
of the earth is belted with its peculiar vegetation ; and there 
Is a beauty alike in the pines on ITorwegiau hills, and the 
palms on African deserts. So with the diversities of the 
human race. Man inhabits aP climes, and though he changes 
color with the sun, and has many varieties of form and fea- 
ture, yet the race is the same ; all have the same attribi :m 



424 KNOWLEDGE TEACHES CHAKITT. 

of humanity, and under a white 3r black skin beats the sams 
human heart. In writing of peoples far remote, my wish 
has been to bring them nearer, and to bind them to us by 
closer bonds of sympathy. If these pictures of Asia make 
ft a little more real, and inspire the feeling of a common 
mature with the dusky races that live on the other side of ihu 
globe, and so infuse a larger knowledge and a gentler charity 
then a traveller's tale may serve as a kind of lay sermoa 
teachiiig peace and good will to men. 



JUL 29 1805 




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